


Werewolf?  I Don't Know, You Saw Him Last

by MeriKG



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 01:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeriKG/pseuds/MeriKG
Summary: Blaine's life has never been a picnic, but as the age of Choosing looms ever closer, he decides anything is better than the future his Father has chosen for him.  Running away is his only choice, but if he can't find a place among his neighbors, the Heartsong Pack, it may be his last.  Of course, if they eat him that will solve his problems, too.





	1. The Music of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the title, this is NOT CRACKFIC. I just couldn't help myself. It occurred to me that I've never written a werewolf story. Sixty pages late, here it is. Good news, it's finished. Bad news, It could benefit from editing. Don't mind the typos. I'll get them corrected in the next day or two. CHEERS!

Blaine sat quietly on his bed, one legged tucked under him as he watched the sun slowly set outside his window. He took one last, long look at the room that had been his only place of safety for so many years, watching the shadows grow and lengthen. Not long, now.

Darkness held no terrors for his kind, just as the light offered no protection from what would soon be hunting him. Routine was his only ally; the certainty that Blaine was properly cowed and would do as he was told, as he had virtually every other day for the last sixteen years of his life. With any luck, that assumption would buy him a decent head start.

It had been a very long time since Blaine had done anything but obediently stay in his room once his door was locked for the night. Of course, it was hardly one little chunk of metal that had kept him so complacent. Once, years ago, he’d balked at the restriction. Restless and daring, he’d defied his Father’s orders and plied his strength against the lock, easily shattering the heavy metal deadbolt. 

Blaine still bore the physical reminder of the price he had paid for that act of defiance. The long white scar, fine as a chalk line, skittered smoothly across the back of his right knee. It was the only scar blemishing his otherwise pristine skin; his kind didn’t scar easily. 

Blaine had learned that lesson well. He had no intention of going anywhere near the bedroom door. It had been made abundantly clear to him that trying to sneak out of the house that way didn’t work. Apparently, his Father thought that one, harsh lesson was detriment enough. And why would he think otherwise? Blaine’s behavior had been exemplary since his leg had healed. 

Eventually the sun yielded its place, supplanted by a cloud-obscured half moon. Blaine had factored in the specific day as carefully as every other aspect of his plan. This point in Mother Moon’s cycle was a quiet, restful time for his kind. 

It wasn’t much of an edge, but Blaine would take everything he could get. He rose, securely tied his barely-worn black converse, and walked softly to the bedroom window. The window’s size wasn’t an issue; the mammoth glasswork was easily twice his arm span both vertically and laterally. No. It was the tight latticework of metal bars welded to the window frame that presented his first hurdle.

The bars were thick, and had high quality silver alloy coating their exterior; painful stuff to touch. Blaine had never been given gloves, as if that was sufficient detriment to leave the bars alone. When he was a younger pup, it had been. 

He slid a pair of his thickest socks over his hands and began gently wiggling at the chunk of bars that he’d spent the last several months softly cutting on. The silver burned him through the fabric, but he ignored the pain. It would take a good ten minutes before his skin actually started to blister from the silver reaction. 

In the past, Blaine had worked at the metal until his hands were too damaged to function any longer, but tonight he went slowly, breaking frequently so they had sufficient time to heal. It was worth the lost time to ensure his hands started out whole and healthy.

The bars slid readily once he’d wriggled them out through his painfully created divets, exactly as they had the last two times that Blaine had come close running away, only to chicken out at the last moment. This time there’d be no going back. 

Blaine easily hefted the heavy metal grating, carrying the bars to his bed and settling them gently onto the mattress in case someone in the floor below happened to be listening. It was unlikely that anyone would hear the ‘thump’ of metal hitting the ground, but Blaine was taking every possible precaution. Once the metal was safely out of his way, he removed the heavy fabric socks, wasting precious minutes while the blistering along his fingers healed. 

He applied wd-40 to the glass rails before opening it, as he’d been doing nightly for weeks. The sound of the window rising was barely a whisper as he lifted it to full height. He locked the jams in place and leaned out, gazing down at his unobstructed view of the ground three stories below him. 

Without hesitation, Blaine slid out onto the sill and swung his legs over, twisting so that he could grasp the awning. He nimbly made his way hand over hand along the bricks and decorative scaffolding, over to the drainage pipe. Once he had a grip on the aging pipe he shimmied his way down using brick grips along the wall as much as possible to minimize his weight. 

He’d thought at length about what he should take along, ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle trying to bring anything. Any additional baggage would only prove cumbersome, and it wasn’t as if he could take his credit cards or phone. He had a little cash, but not enough to bother hauling a shift-able pack. And he wouldn’t need clothing. No, with speed of the essence, it was better to be travel as lightly and unfettered as possible. 

Blaine was unusually slight of built and trim for a male of his kind. His smaller stature would be considered inconvenient for a normal teenager, but was devastating for the child of a werewolf pack Alpha. Maybe if he’d been larger, or fiercer, his life would have been different. 

It worked in his favor at the moment, his smaller mass allowed him to slip down the bolted piping in a way his larger, heavier cousins could never have managed. Of course, they wouldn’t have to sneak out like this in the first place.

When he was level with the first floor window ledge, he released his grip on the pipe, pushing off the wall with his legs and dropping softly to the grass in a low crouch. The moment his feet touched earth he bolted, sprinting as fast as he could away from the house, headed east towards the woods. No alarm sounded behind him, the house still and quiet. Second hurdle down, and Blaine was free. Next came the hard part. 

As soon as he made it to the tree line he stopped, stripped off his designer jeans and polo, and began to shift. Werewolves could sense a change if it was done nearby, one of the reasons he’d waited until he was far from the house before shrugging off his human skin. 

As one of the wolf-born, his transition was smooth and painless, his body melting to the consistency of warm taffy to accommodate the shifting of bone and tissue. His body bent in half, his arms twisting and bending until he stood on four legs. His neck stretched out, skull widening and forming an elongated snout. Less than a minute later the boy was gone and a lean, curly coated, coal-black canid stood in his place. 

Blaine shook himself, ridding his body of any residual tingles. He was giant by normal wolf standards, standing slightly taller than an Irish wolfhound, with the stockiness of a Rottweiler. For a werewolf, his four-legged form was something the charitable would call ‘petite’. His Father preferred to call him a disappointment.

Blaine stretched low, bowing his front half into a long downward dog, fighting back the instinctive urge to howl a greeting to Mother Moon. Silently, he spun away, turning on his heels and disappearing into the trees. 

Once he found the familiar path, Blaine opened his stride, settling into a steady lope. Nerves called on him to run fast and far, to pour his energy into getting as far as he could as quickly as possible, but he knew better. Blaine was a decent sprinter, but he didn’t have sufficient endurance built up for the journey ahead. 

The man that Blaine’s Father had put in charge of his personal training made sure that he never became too fit. He could sprint with the best of them, and was hell on the local rabbit population, but had never been on a long run. His exercise, like every other aspect of his life, was carefully contrived to keep Blaine in check: he was allowed just enough exercise to keep his body muscular and attractive, but not enough to build up any real stamina. 

The most obvious plan would be to travel west; it was the closest border of his pack’s established territory. But Blaine was sure that those who would soon be hunting him wouldn’t hesitate to chase him into another’s land. If they managed to catch him and drag him back before they were noticed, no one would know the difference. Anyway, the pack Alpha on the western border was an old friend of his Father’s; there’d be no safety there.

So east it was. He’d made sure to trounce around all over this section of woods over the last few days, chasing squirrels and rabbits. Blaine hoped the abundance of his scent in the area might be enough to mask his trail for at least a little while. Somewhere in the distance the woods would open to the large spanse of rocky ground; his next milestone. It was harder to track over rocks. 

Hours past and Blaine felt the first early pangs of exhaustion. Worse than that, his feet were already beginning to ache, the pads not prepared to bear the brunt of a long run. He could rest them, let them soak in a nearby stream and give them time to heal, or he could keep running. Either choice was a risk. 

Pack made landmarks told him that he was nearing the rocky section of their land. It was tempting to keep trucking on. But no. There was no point in enduring the pain of running on rocky terrain to hide his scent if he left a blood trail a puppy could nose out. Blaine raised his head to catch the right scent, veering off the path towards the smell of water. 

It didn’t take him long to find a windy loop of the stream that transected the pack’s territory. Blaine stepped into the January-cold water, whimpering a canine groan of pleasure as the icy water numbed his sore feet. Blaine wasted precious time soothing his injured pads and waiting to heal, before caution and rising anxiety warned him that he needed to get moving. 

The water may have helped with his feet, but the break was too brief to be of any real use to his muscles. Ignoring the dull throb, he pushed himself back into a lope, increasing his speed when he reached the rocky terrain, running towards the distant border of his Father’s territory.

Time passed and the sun began its ascent, banishing the darkness with bright tones of faintest pink. The rays felt nice, warming his black fur and driving away the chill, but Blaine dreaded what the coming of day would entail. He pushed on. 

In the distance, a chorus of howls suddenly exploded, ruining the quiet dawn. Hunt song. Blaine’s hackles rose and a tremor shook his already twitchy muscles as he fought back the rising panic, forcing his body to maintain its steady pace rather than bolting. 

Adrenaline flowed, bolstering his endurance and determination. Just a few more hours and he’d be across the border. The territory he ran toward belonged to a pack that guarded its land far more zealously than his western neighbors and better still, they had no ties with Blaine’s family. Hopefully it was worth risking the longer journey. 

Blaine’s hunters weren’t quiet; their continued howls filled the chilly air as they steadily gained on him, their longer legs and a lifetime of running eating great bites out of his lead. Blaine had known he’d be on the clock once they started the chase. It was the reason he’d dedicated so much planning and preparation to his initial escape and those first precious hours. 

His pursuers went quiet for a while; they must have lost the trail among the rocky plains. Far too soon, Huntsong sounded again. They’d caught his scent much more quickly than he’d hoped. Blaine gave in to the fear coursing through him, risking a little more speed as desperation drove him on. 

Morning became day and still he ran, exhaustion becoming his steady companion. Blaine was grateful now for the steady howls of his pursuers. He knew they did it to scare him, but Blaine was no stranger to to being afraid and could think clearly through his fear. Their calls telegraphed their exact position for him, and he used each new jolt of terror to drive his tired body on. 

His pads wore to bleeding but he ran on heedless of the damage. His father’s Hunters had locked onto his scent; there was no point in hiding. He ran through the day, feeling his speed begin to lag. He was running out of steam. Still, he ran on.

Blaine’s speed had dropped to a slow canter by the time the sun began its descent; the faintest of blues and purples tinting the sky. Blaine was beginning to despair. His body had little left to give and the Hunters were so, so close. Blaine whimpered as a busted blister hit a sharp rock and he stumbled. Exhaustion was making him clumsy. It was time to accept that he had failed. At least he’d tried his best. Blaine wondered if that thought would be enough to get him through the days ahead. 

The faint smell of water dragged him back to full awareness. The wind had shifted and he now clearly scented a river flowing up ahead, the soft sound of rushing water in the distance the sweetest of songs to his ears. He turned a sharp left and saw his target. 

The waterway was narrow and partially frozen, but that didn’t matter. Of much greater import, it represented the border between Blaine’s pack and Heartsong territory. Blaine bolstered his waning energy and poured on what speed he could manage as he approached the river’s edge. He didn’t have time to find a trail down and forage gently through it; the Hunters were too close. He had to make the leap.

Blaine gathered his haunches under him right as he touched the edge and launched his body high with his hindquarters. He sailed through the air, watching as the other side grew closer, closer, and then he was falling, still several feet away from the other side. 

He landed in a pile of tangled limbs on hard ice, hearing the crack beneath him, though thankfully the frozen water didn’t give way under his weight. Groaning, he pulled himself upright, and staggered towards the land. 

Three steps later he hit a weak spot, and the ice under his back paws gave way, dunking half his body in ice-cold stream water. Blaine dug his front claws in hard, and began scrambling back up. 

He yanked himself out of the water, slicing his belly on the jagged edges of the broken ice in the process. He smelled fresh blood and knew it was more than his pads this time. He was paying for that failed leap. He took a deep breath, deciding that the gauges in his skin weren’t deep, and he pressed on, noticing an old deer trail worn into the bank by thirsty foragers. 

He scrambled up the steep path out of the riverbed. Once he was safely on the other side, Blaine risked glancing behind him. No sign of his pursuers yet, but he knew they were close. Not trusting them to stop at the border, Blaine used the last of his waning energy to run in a direct line into the heart of the foreign pack’s territory. He ruthlessly burned the remaining dregs of his last wind, hoping to get far enough in that they’d notice him before the Hunters found him.

Blaine didn’t know much about the Heartsong pack. What little he knew came from statements he’d overheard from his father and the other adults, and they hadn't exactly been complimentary. 

For all he knew, this pack would tear him to pieces the moment they scented him. He was young enough that that outcome wasn’t all that likely, but they’d be within their rights Blaine did know what would happen to him if he’d stayed with his pack, and had chosen the gamble. 

He tripped over a chunk of root, too exhausted to lift his feet properly. He slowed to a trot, then a walk, watching through the breaks in the foliage overhead as the final glow of the setting gave way to darkness. 

Then he heard it; the call of Huntsong in a voice he’d never heard before. Blaine turned toward the howl, making no effort at stealth. Not that he could if he tried; the tired, wheezing pants he was emitting as his lungs fought for air sounded train-loud to his own ears. There was no way another wolf would fail to hear him. 

He trotted towards what looked to be a well-worn dirt road and followed it to a dark stretch of highway. He’d been going at a broken walk-trot along the side of the road for the better part of an hour when he saw the werewolf standing in the middle of the road. If Blaine hadn’t been exhausted beyond reason, he’d have smelled the other wolf ages ago.

The wolf was an enormous male, his thick fur light tan, with dark brown socks marking his hind legs. His forest green eyes were bright and warm. The wolf raised lips, baring his teeth in warning, though he didn’t growl or take an attack stance. 

Blaine held still, his body shivering with fear and exhaustion, and maybe a little euphoria. He’d done it; escaped his Father and found the Heartsong pack. Now all he needed to do was survive the encounter.

Whatever his fate, he was going to do it standing, Blaine decided, firmly locking his legs so he didn’t collapse. The big wolf stalked towards him, sniffing at Blaine’s mouth then lower at his bloody feet. Blaine allowed the inspection, keeping still and silent. The wolf wouldn't scent anything off him that he couldn't readily see; exhaustion and youth.

After circling him, the wolf returned to his previous spot. His body shimmered and the large beast shifted, smoothly transitioning to human as only the wolf-born could. Now that the other wolf was in human form, Blaine could see that he wasn’t all that much older then he was, though undoubtedly past the age of choosing. 

The second thing Blaine noted was that the man was extremely attractive. He had dark blonde hair, a wide mouth, and huge shoulders that sloped to a mouth-watering chest and enough girth between his legs to satisfy any potential mate. Blaine scented his own obvious attraction and tensed, unsure how the other wolf would take it.

The young man grinned widely and puffed his chest out a bit, clearly pleased with Blaine’s reaction. “I’m Sam,” he said, gesturing at his bare chest. “I’m one of Heartsong's Hunters.” His smile faded. “I’ve never smelled you before. Stay right here, okay? Our Alpha is on his way.”

Blaine ducked his head in agreement. It was an easy enough request; he wasn’t sure he could move if he wanted to.

A few minutes later, Blaine heard the soft sounds of wolf nails clicking on pavement. Sam had to have heard it too, but he didn’t take his eyes from Blaine. Two wolves trotted up the road towards them, one a female not much larger than Blaine, with jet-black fur, and the other…wow. The other wolf was unlike any Blaine had seen before.

He seemed young for an Alpha, though with the power signature emanating from him there was nothing else he could be. The wolf was tall, taller than Sam in wolf form, and streamlined with lean muscle, his slick coat showing off his impressive runner’s build. 

Blaine had no doubt that this wolf could cover the entire distance that he had just run in half the time, jump the river with room to spare, and be ready to turn around and do it all again as soon as he finished.

The wolf’s fur gleamed, his silky coat a deep, off-white shade that seemed to glow when the moonlight hit it just right. Blue grey eyes gazed steadily at him, the look wary, but he didn’t appear violent or angry. This wolf looked more curious than anything else. 

“This is our Alpha, Kurt Hummel,” Sam supplied helpfully, as the only one currently capable of speech. “He says that you look tired and invites you to stay in the Pack house with full Guest Rights for twenty-four hours.”

Blaine perked his ears forward at the unlikely offer. It was so much more than he could have hoped for. Guest Rights included the promise of safety, as well as lodgings and food. His belly gurgled at the mere thought. Of course, the meal could simply mean permission to hunt, which meant Blaine was staying hungry. There was no way he could catch a rabbit in his current state.

The sound of an engine caught his attention, and a moment later an older, light blue chevy truck trudged along the road to them and braked. It stopped in the middle of the road and a man stepped out. He was another young adult, like Sam, Kurt, and the female, and sported a wide mohawk. Blaine began to wonder if there were any older adults at all in this pack. 

“That’s Puck,” Sam told him.

“Hiya, little wolf,” Puck said cheerfully, waving a hand in greeting. “I’m supposed to offer you a ride if you want it.”

If he wanted it? Blaine could cry. Now that he’d finally stopped running, all his aches had come to a head. Blaine’s legs were jello, and his abused feet felt as if they were about to fall off. Puck lowered the tailgate for him and waited expectantly. Blaine stumbled towards the truck, unable to hide the wince of pain. 

Blaine looked up at the truck bed and licked his lips nervously. Gathering his haunches, he prepared to leap, already knowing he’d never make it. He mentally braced for the shame and mocking that would follow when he inevitably landed on his ass. Before he could attempt the jump, a loud whine halted him. The large white wolf trotted over and gave him a reassuring look before staring over at Puck.

Puck’s eyes widened briefly, a sign his Alpha was speaking to him. He glanced down at Blaine. “No offense, but do you want a hand up? You look bushed, dude.”

Blaine sighed. Still embarrassing, a werewolf needing to be lifted onto a truck bed, but a lesser shame than falling on his tail. Less painful as well.

He muttered a small whine of assent, holding still while Puck leaned down and slid his arms around Blaine’s underbelly, easily hefting him up and into the truck bed. Puck pulled the tailgate up behind him and headed back to the driver’s seat. A moment later the truck rocked as Sam vaulted into the space next to Blaine, grinning. 

“I’m riding with you. No point in running all that way back when there’s a ride already here.” It also allowed the other wolf to keep and eye on him, Blaine knew, but he didn’t see any reason to object. This was already going better than his best-case scenario.

Blaine glanced out of the bed, watching as Kurt and the dark female took off into the woods, the opposite direction the truck was heading. He glanced at Sam in question.

“There’s other intruders on our land,” Sam explained. “Hunters from the next pack over. Kurt and Santana are going out to remind them where the border lies between our territories.”

Just the two of them against his Father’s best Hunters? And one a small female. Blaine changed form, shivering as the winter air bit into his naked human skin. 

“That’s a bad idea,” he told Sam. “There’s four of them out there and they are some of the best Hunters in the pack.”

“Just four?” Sam laughed. “Kurt and Santana are going to be disappointed.” He smiled reassuringly. "Thanks for the heads up, but they'll be fine." 

Blaine bit his lip, but didn’t argue the point. He didn’t agree, but he’d given warning. There was nothing else he could do. He shivered, and Sam turned towards the large metal storage box, fishing out a thick blanket and two pair of sweat pants. Keeping one set for himself, he tossed the other pair to Blaine who quickly struggled into them, the bumping of the truck down the road vying with his broken hands to see which made dressing the greater challenge. Once he had them on, backwards, not that it mattered much, he curled into a ball in the corner. Sam scooted next to him, drawing the blanket around them both and tucking the corners in.

Sam was warm, seriously warm, like a giant, man-sized furnace and Blaine didn’t hesitate to burrow into the blessed heat of his bare chest, sighing. He wasn’t surprised when Sam slid an arm around him in comfort. Blaine recognized a natural protector when he smelled one; Sam’s instincts would lead him towards caring and providing for a lesser wolf. Even if he didn’t, the pack Alpha had guaranteed Blaine twenty-four hours. The big man wouldn’t dare defy his alpha and hurt him. He was safe for now. 

The bumpy ride didn’t last long, the old truck coming to a stop barely fifteen minutes later. A door slammed and Puck came around to open the tailgate. Blaine stood, his damaged hands curled into fists as he fought to hide the wince when he put weight on his savaged human feet. 

It hadn’t hurt any less when he had been on all fours, but pads were made of sterner stuff than human skin. Blaine smelled his own blood and knew he was leaving red prints on the truck bed. Hopefully, that didn’t incite the two werewolves into aggression. 

Neither wolf seemed particularly affected by the blood smell. When Blaine approached, Puck leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Blaine’s torso, easing him gently to the ground and sparing him the painful leap. It was a kindness Blaine hadn’t expected, and felt wetness at the corner of his eyes. 

This pack was already showing more care for him than his own ever had. He was too tired to mask his emotions properly; everything he felt was raw and exposed for anyone with a half decent nose to catch. It made him feel naked in a way physical nudity never could.

“If I’d known you were going to go human, you could’ve just ridden in the warm cab,” Puck told him. Blaine shrugged. He hadn’t planned on changing at the time. 

Puck frowned. “Can you even talk?”

“He talks fine. Just not to you, loser,” Sam told the mohawked wolf. Puck laughed, winked at Blaine, and gestured towards the front door. 

The truck was parked in front of a large, two story brick ranch style home. Blaine shuffled towards the front door, clutching at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders despite his damaged fingers, while Sam paced patiently at his side. 

Puck reached the heavy wooden door well before Blaine. It wasn’t locked, Blaine noted when the wolf reached forward and the handle gave way readily. But why would it be? No mere lock or bolt would act as a detriment to the type of creatures that lived within. Blaine glanced down at the well-worn ‘Welcome’ mat laid out on the stoop. Irony or omen?

Puck swung the door wide and gestured them inside with a theatrical bow. Sam laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder as he walked past him into the house. And then it was Blaine’s turn to go inside. 

“You coming or what?” Puck asked, gestured towards the entrance. “It’s not getting any warmer out here.” 

Blaine swallowed back a sudden resurgence of fear born of not knowing. He sternly reminded himself that none of the people he’d met so far had shown so much as a hint of malicious intent. Also, he had Guest Rights. For the next-twenty four hours the Heartsong pack was honor bound to keep him safe. Then again, he’d seen an Alpha werewolf act less than honorably when there were no witnesses about. 

Blaine was all alone, far from everything that was familiar. But it had been a long time since the familiar had provided comfort. It was unlikely any new situation would be worse then the one he’d struggled so hard to leave behind. 

He took a wary sniff. The house smelled like good food, werewolf and home. Gripping the blanket around his shoulders tight, Blaine smiled a wan ‘thank you’ to Puck and stepped inside.


	2. Be Our Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenage werewolf drama ensues. Also, sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's probably lots of typos. I'll go over it tomorrow. Cheers!

Despite his exhaustion, Blaine looked about alertly as he was guided down the entry hall to a gigantic kitchen that smelled of something seriously delicious. A long, marble-topped island was built into the room’s center, ringed with padded bar stools. 

A large, older adult male sat at one place, sipping at…Blaine sniffed the air, black coffee. He wore a baseball cap, loose jeans and well-worn red-checkered flannel over a faded black ‘Valvoline’ tee shirt. He turned expectantly at Blaine’s approach, observing him with narrowed eyes. One glance into the man’s gaze and Blaine hastily dropped his eyes deferentially. 

This was what he’d expected of the pack Alpha; a man with some age on him and a general mien of power, like Blaine’s father. Except that this man hadn’t been born a werewolf. No, he had the trace scent of wildness about him carried by those changed later in life. That shouldn’t affect his ability to rule a pack, though. And this wolf radiated Dominance in spades. Blaine wondered what had happened that made the powerful male cede Alpha status to the much younger Kurt. 

“Hey, Burt,” Sam called cheerfully as they entered the warm kitchen. “Here’s the source of our stranger-danger alert.” He put a reassuring hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “He had a few unsavory types from across the river on his tail. Kurt and Santana are out reminding them that our border is not a polite suggestion. He’s offered this one 24 hour Guest Rights.”

Burt, nodded thoughtfully “Hiya, kid,” he said to Blaine after giving him a thorough once-over. 

“Don’t take this bad, but you look run-out as hell. I just put some leftover stew on.” He nodded towards the massive cast iron pot on the range. “It’s not hot yet, though. Why don’t you go soak in the bath for a bit, get yourself cleaned up, then come back here and you can eat your fill?” 

Blaine realized the pot was the source of the fantastic meat smell he’d scented when he first entered the house. His mouth watered involuntarily at the thought of food. He’d not stopped to hunt during his journey through his own territory, and wouldn’t have dared on Heartsong land, even if he’d been in any state to catch anything.

“Thank you, Sir,” he answered when he realized Burt was waiting. “I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem. Sam can show you to one of the bathrooms. Wait a sec.” He moved to one of the cabinets and pulled out some thick, brown chunky things. Burt then filled a giant coffee mug from the big kettle on the range next to the warming pot of food, offering him both. 

“Here, take this with you.” 

Blaine leaned forward and took a cautious sniff. Deer jerky; good homemade stuff, not the store bought sticks coated in chemicals, and hot chocolate made with real milk. Heaven. Ignoring the pang in his damaged hands, he reached out and took the offered snacks.

“Thank you, Sir,” he whispered, ducking his head respectfully.

“Sure thing. Go on with Sam now, there’ll be plenty of stew waiting when you get back.”

Blaine nodded, noticing that Burt shot Sam a sharp look, though Blaine had no idea what he meant by it. Sam apparently understood just fine, nodding in agreement before leading Blaine down a long hallway. 

The dark wood below Blaine’s feet felt well worn and warm. He hoped that he’d healed enough that he wasn’t leaving a bloody mess in his wake. By the smell, he wasn’t so lucky.

“Sorry about the mess,” He told Sam apologetically. 

The other wolf shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. This is hardly the first time this floor’s seen blood and it’s unlikely to be the last. The closest bathroom is this direction on the right.”

They passed through an enormous living room filled with long couches and beanbag chairs, as well as several thick dog beds, spread sporadically around a giant stone fireplace. The roaring flames inside filled the room with warmth and Blaine longed to curl up and sleep, seeping his weary, chilled body in its heat.

But his belly gurgled, reminding him that it was quite empty. And he was still filthy. Blaine forced himself to move away from the soothing flames and turned down the indicated hallway. The first door opened into a spacious bathroom. A towel warmer plugged in along far the wall was loaded with several thick, fluffy green towels. The bathtub was a huge affair complete with whirlpool jets, its thick marble rim lined with all manner of soaps and shampoos.

“Here ya go,” Sam said cheerfully. “Take as long as you want. This is one of the public bathing areas, so anything you find is fair game for use. Stay and soak as long as you want.” 

He took the mug and jerky Blaine had been clutching to his chest and set them down on a sturdy little fold out stand that had been leaning in the corner. “There. Now you can eat while you relax. I’ll be back in a few minutes with some clothes you can have.” 

“Thank you,” Blaine said politely. 

He stared longingly at the bath, waiting until he heard the door close behind him to strip off the sweats and blanket and slide into the tub. He turned the water on as hot as he could stand it and dumped a liberal amount of lavender smelling bubble bath under the tap. 

He leaned back on the convenient bath pillow, sighing contentedly. The air jets must have been set to automatic, because they popped on the moment the water level was high enough.

While the hot water swirled around him, Blaine reached for one of the jerky sticks, gnawing in delight at the perfectly seasoned meat. The hot water soothed his aching muscles and the jets massaged his body in the best ways. 

He’d had no idea what to expect once he’d crossed into Heartsong territory, but care to the point of pampering wasn’t it. Of course, they may still kill him, especially when they found out who his Father was. But there was nothing Blaine could do about that. Right now, he had hot chocolate, delicious deer jerky, and he was blessedly warm. Later could wait. 

“Blaine?” Sam called out a few moments later, knocking perfunctory on the door as he entered.

“It’s just me, Sam. I have clothes. I also brought this cream stuff that Carol, she’s Burt’s mate, makes. It smells awful, but it works like magic on overused skin. Slather it on your hands and feet once you get out, okay? Cool, bye!” Without waiting for a response, he disappeared, closing the door firmly behind him.

Blaine blinked, taken a little aback by the brief Sam interlude, but didn’t move from his comfy spot. He took a sip of hot chocolate and soaked.  
\-------------------

The smell of hot food and an insistent growl from his stomach drove Blaine out from the bubbly water far sooner than he really felt like leaving. But a few strips of jerky weren’t nearly enough sustenance for a werewolf who’d spent the last several days running his body into the ground. 

Blaine pulled the plug on the water, tentatively stepping out onto warm tiled floor. He relaxed when the newly regrown skin on the bottom of his feet held. It still felt like he was walking on Legos, but at least he wasn’t leaving a trail of blood anymore. He sat on the toilet and massaged the cream Sam had left him into his tender soles, then slid on the thick, luxuriantly soft wool socks that were among the clothes piled in the sink.

He slid on a maroon McKinley Titans tee shirt, black sweats, and a well-loved, oversized hoodie. It made him look even smaller than his already diminutive stature, but that may not be a bad thing. All of the wolves he’d met so far had been Hunters. He didn’t have a prayer of out-toughing them; his best bet was to appeal to their protective natures.

Blaine rubbed the healing salve on the welts on his hands, wincing more from the smell than the sting. He glanced at himself in the full sized mirror. He looked sallow, and couldn’t quite manage to hide the uncertainty in his gaze. He certainly looked nothing like the stuff of nightmares and topic of horror movies across the globe. Nothing new, there.

He opened the door, cautiously making his way back towards the kitchen. Burt was still there, working on a hearty bowl of stew. A place was set directly across from him with a full glass of water and another of milk by the silverware.

“There you are. Nice bath, kid?” Burt asked, gesturing at the empty space in invitation.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” Blaine eased himself onto the indicated stool. 

Burt slid the hefty pot over to him, smiling encouragingly. Blaine took a thirsty draught from the water, pulled the pot closer and reached for the ladle. 

“This smells incredible,” Blaine told Burt as he filled the large bowl in front of him to the top. 

There was every possibility that this would Blaine’s last meal and he had every intention of taking full advantage. He closed his eyes in sheer delight at the first bite. The soup was pretty basic; potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, and beef chunks, but it was spiced specifically for a werewolf’s sensitive pallet.

Burt chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my kiddo for you. Even the simple stuff that he makes turns out amazing.” 

“Have I met your son?” Blaine asked, taking another hefty bite of stew, savoring the perfect play of spices on his tongue. Bliss. 

“Oh, probably. Kurt? Tall, white, stag-looking critter?” 

Blaine choked. He would never have thought to describe the fierce, long legged Dominant wolf he’d met in the woods as a ‘stag-looking critter’. 

Burt laughed. “You okay, there?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine wheezed, taking a deep swallow of his milk.

Burt sat back, watching him. "What's your name, kid?"

"It's Blaine, Sir."

“Blaine, huh? If I’m remembering it right, I think the Anderson Alpha next door has a pup named Blaine.” 

Blaine took another bite of stew. “I think he does too, Sir.” 

Burt chuckled. “I see. How old are you, Blaine?”

Blaine saw no point in beating around the bush. “I’ll be seventeen in three weeks.” 

Seventeen was a special age for werewolves. The official age of consent. Blaine had no idea why the First Pack had chosen seventeen, but there it was. The age when a young wolf could choose leave his pack for another, go lone wolf, challenge for pack position…or take a mate. 

“Something you want to tell me about your pack, Blaine?” Burt asked him.

“Not particularly, Sir,” Blaine replied politely. Before Burt could probe further, the front door banged open and raucous voices filled the relative peace.

“…totally awesome,” Sam was saying. Two men and a wolf appeared a moment later. The wolf, the sleek black female, had a chunk of bloody tail in her mouth. She raised her head, proudly displaying her prize. She danced over to Burt, pushing the bloody chunk of enemy towards him in offering.

Burt chuckled. “Thanks, Santana. But I’m good. Anyway, don’t you have a perspective mate that you’re trying to impress?” Ears perking forward, she turned, trotting smoothly out of the kitchen with her prize. 

Blaine watched her go, then looked back at the two human-shaped wolves. One was Sam, of course. Scent told Blaine that the other young man was Kurt, not that he really needed the confirmation. Some wolves looked nothing like they did in human shape; others were so alike it’d be impossible to mistake them. Kurt was of the latter type.

He worn a pair of tight jeans over legs every bit as long as his wolf. His bare torso was lean and muscular, with skin the same glossy shade as his fur. Kurt in human form had the same air of Dominance as he did on all fours, making the good humor in his storm blue eyes and his guileless grin seem oddly out of place. 

“Hey, Son. You take care of business?” Burt asked, rising to get more bowls out of the cabinet.

Kurt glanced curiously over at Blaine. Blaine took another bite of stew. “Of course,” he told his father in a decidedly teenage fashion. 

Kurt maneuvered around Burt, bending down to pull a tray of rolls out of the oven. He tossed them into a basket and walked around the island, sidling up next to Blaine.

“Would you like a cheddar chive roll? They’re really good, I promise. I managed to reproduce the Red Lobster recipe then improved on it.”

Blaine had never eaten at a Red Lobster in his life, but he warily took a roll out of the basket. He gave it a tentative sniff. Smelled good. He took a bite, eyes widening as the taste exploded in his mouth. He glanced over at the basket Kurt was still holding out. The Alphas eyes lit with amusement when Blaine took two more.

“So I guess they’re okay, huh?” he teased. 

Blaine nodded, watching Kurt thoughtfully. Among wolves, offering food could mean a lot of things, or nothing at all. It could simply be Kurt sharing dinner. But it could also mean a Dominant offering protection and safety, or something more personal. It wasn’t uncommon for a wolf to offer food to a potential partner as proof that they could adequately provide for them.

Kurt took the seat next to Blaine, filling his own bowl with stew and glancing sidelong at Blaine with clear interest. Blaine caught the look and smiled softly, focusing back on his meal. Well, that answered that.

“Kurt, this is Blaine, the Anderson Alpha’s youngest pup. Blaine, you’ve met my son Kurt.”

“Hi,” Blaine told him, dipping a chunk of roll in his stew. “Was that Michael’s tail that the lady wolf was carrying?”

“If you mean that dun-colored brute of a werewolf who was chasing you, yes and no. Yes, it’s his tail, but only a little of it. He still has all the working parts; Santana just scalped him a bit.”

“She did that herself?” Blaine asked in surprise. Michael was one of his father’s fiercest Hunters. 

Kurt grinned sharply. “Definitely. If I’d been the one to get a grip, he wouldn’t have a tail left.” 

Sam laughed. “Like a corgi? I can just imagine a were-corgi running his squat little legs through that river. I kinda wish you’d gotten that bite, Kurt.”

Blaine kind of wished he had, too. He had no affection for Michael. He swallowed his mouthful of biscuit. “So, you and Santana escorted all four of those Hunters back across the border?”

Kurt’s expression blanked. “We had something of a coup here a few years back. You may have noticed that most of the pack’s Hunters are young adults, and I’ve only been the Alpha a short while. We don’t have the luxury of appearing weak. We drove three of them back to their territory.”

Oh. Blaine wondered which of the Hunters Kurt had murdered. It didn’t matter all that much. To him, they were all monsters. But it would be nice to know which one no longer needed his own role in Blaine’s nightmares.

Kurt didn’t say anything else, focusing instead on his food. Sam was also uncharacteristically quiet. Blaine glanced up at Burt, seeing sorrow on the man’s face as he watched Kurt steadily work through his dinner.

“Sorry, kiddo. I know how you feel about killing.” Kurt shrugged. The table went silent for a few awkward moments. 

“Blaine here is going to be seventeen next month,” Burt told his son casually. Kurt looked over at him in surprise. Blaine took another bite of stew.

“You’re not of age?” Kurt asked.

“Not yet.”

“Does that have anything to do with why you were hauling tail through our land with four Hunters after you?”

“Yes.” Blaine sighed. One-word answers weren’t going to cut it anymore. “My Father gave me the list of the top three wolves he was considering offering me to as mate when I came of age. None of them…suited me.” Understatement. He decided he’d rather die than become attached to any of them.

“Your father was trying to dictate your mate?” Burt asked incredulously. “Why not just refuse them?”

“I could do that,” Blaine agreed. “But he made it clear that after he’d given me to them I’d rethink it.” Blaine hesitated. “He said that since I don’t have any real size or Dominance I wouldn’t be able to refuse them once they’d had me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Burt said with a growl. “Yes, a strong enough Dominant can pull you under, but that doesn’t make you mates. It’s just sex.” 

It wasn’t just the pull. Once whatever wolf he was gifted to claimed him, he’d be out of any other options. No one would want to bother with what was left of him. Blaine didn’t say any of that. 

“So you ran away?” Sam asked around the food stuffed into his sizable mouth. 

“Yes,” Blaine agreed. “I couldn’t think of a better option. Coming here, if I could make the journey without getting caught, seemed the lesser risk. I’m not going back. The people on that list…I think I’d rather be dead,” Blaine told the table of werewolves, letting them hear the honesty in his voice. “So, if you were thinking of returning me to my Father, I respectfully ask that you rip my throat out instead. It’s the kinder fate.”

“No one here is hurting a pup,” Burt told him firmly at the same time Kurt said, “Not happening.” Sam objected as well, but his was more of an ‘mfrrffrr’, since he’d just stuffed an entire roll into his mouth. 

Blaine smiled a little at the vehement response. Maybe he wouldn’t die today. With that cheerful thought, the last dregs of his fight-or-flight response faded, and he couldn’t hold back the exhaustion that left him drooping where he sat.

“Sleep here, tonight,” Kurt told him. “We’ve plenty of rooms. Guest Rights, remember? I promise you will be safe.” 

Blaine studied the Alpha wolf, reading the sincerity in his eyes. He remembered the interest he’d spotted earlier. Something to think on later, when his brain wasn’t muddled.

“Thank you,” he told them all. 

“If you’re finished eating, I’ll take you to a room,” Kurt offered.

Blaine glanced down at his empty bowl and decided he was too tired for seconds. “Okay,” he agreed. He rose carefully, mindful of his soles, and followed Kurt deeper into the house.

“Upstairs or main floor?” Kurt asked. 

Blaine thought of his room back home, the extravagantly gilded cage on the third floor where he’d spent the majority of his life. He shivered. “Main floor, please.”

Kurt took him past the big living room, past the bathroom. “Both of these are available rooms. Pick whichever you like.”

Blaine opened the closed door and flipped on the light. The room was done in soothing shades of green, and a mammoth bed took up the majority of available floor space. The wide window was closed and winterized, trapping the heat from the big central fireplace.

“Is this okay?” Kurt asked. “There’s extra pillows and blankets in the closet, over there.”

“It’s fine. Thank you,” Blaine replied, sitting on the bed, relieved to be off his feet. 

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow,” Kurt said, almost shyly. “My room is just down the hall, if you need anything. Good night.” 

Blaine nodded, waiting until Kurt hit the light switch and closed the door behind him. Blaine listened, waiting for the familiar sound of a locking deadbolt, but it never happened. He felt the brief urge to check the door, but a throb from his feet dissuaded him. 

He tucked himself under the heavy covers, the fresh scent of recently washed sheets filling his senses. His mind wanted to stay awake a while longer to replay the conversations that had taken place over dinner, look for nuances he might’ve missed, but his body had other ideas. No sooner did his head hit the pillow then he fell into a deep sleep.  
\------------------ 

The sun was high in the sky when Blaine next awoke. He realized he’d slept through the rest of the night and most of the morning when he saw that the bedside clock read 1030. His very full bladder told him that he’d slept more than long enough. He sat up, sniffing the air, detecting hints of lingering breakfast smells. His stomach rumbled. Hopefully there were some leftovers.

He tentatively set his feet on the ground and stood, relieved when there was only some residual soreness left. He looked at his palms. New skin, still pink and delicate, but the broken blisters had healed overnight. Good enough.

He tested the doorknob, discovering the room really was unlocked, and made his way to the bathroom. Once he’d relieved his bladder, Blaine stood at the door, listening to the sounds of numerous voices, most of which were new to him. Nothing to be done about it; he couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever.

Blaine walked down the hall, finding the expansive living room crowded with people. As best he could tell, they were all werewolves, and all young. They lounged throughout the area, on the couches, the beanbags. A dark haired Hispanic who smelled familiar was laid out across the back of one of the couches, balancing easily on the narrow surface. 

Several of them glanced his way. He sensed a good deal of curiosity, but no hostility. Sam appeared, coming out of the kitchen with a plate piled high with waffles.

“Blaine! Good morning,”

“Hi, Sam,” Blaine replied shyly. 

“Well, don’t hover. Go get some food and grab a spot.” He sat on a couch where a large, scruffy looking wolf with German shepherd coloring currently rested. Sam shoved at the great beast with one hand, finally planting a foot on its side and pushing it off the couch to the floor when it didn’t budge. 

“Get down, Puck. No wolfie wolves on the person furniture. Go change if you want couch space.” 

Puck lifted his lips and bared his teeth at the other man, growling ferociously.

“Don’t even start with me until I’ve eaten,” Sam told him, stuffing a slice of bacon in his mouth. He tossed another piece high in the air. Puck-wolf leapt, neatly catching the treat and skulked over to one of the fluffy animal beds. 

Shaking his head at what looked more like friendly antics than pack posturing, Blaine wandered into the kitchen. The island was crowded with plates, some empty, but still plenty of food left over. Blaine grabbed a plate from the warmer and loaded up: potatoes, scrambled eggs, a giant blueberry scone, a thick slice of ham, and a giant pancake on top of the lot. 

Deciding that was more than enough for now, he found a fork, filled a glass with water and made his way back to the living room, hoping the space next to Sam was still open. It was, and Blaine happily accepted Sam’s loud invitation to have a seat.

Blaine took in the easy chatting and banter around him. It was mostly casual talk; a little about driving off invaders last night, but mostly talk of dating, school work, and something about singing. Typical teenager stuff.

“Where are the adults, here?” Blaine asked Sam softly. 

Sam shrugged. “We had a coup a few years back. The elders held to some pretty archaic rules, and some of us weren’t fans. There was talk of driving Kurt out when he became of age. They said it was because he’s gay,” Sam paused. “You knew that right? That Kurt digs other dudes?”

“I noticed,” Blaine agreed, smiling softly.

“Okay, that’s good. Like I was saying, they wanted Kurt out, mostly because it was becoming clear he’d be pretty Dominant, and a lot of the wolves had eyes on Alpha since Burt was going to bow out sooner rather than later. Kurt’s brother, well half-brother…it’s complicated. Anyway, Finn, got vocal about objecting to all that. Kurt probably would have left when he turned seventeen, just to keep the peace, except they went after Finn.” 

Sam’s expression hardened. “Finn’s a big wolf, bigger than me if you can believe it. He’s not exactly the best fighter in the pack, but he’s plenty tough. It would’ve taken a lot of them to bring him down.”

“The older wolves killed Kurt’s brother?” Blaine asked. Maybe all packs really were as corrupt as his and he’d deluded himself into thinking the grass was any greener.

“Near enough. Puck found him in the woods or he would’ve died. Sounded for help and we got him back here in time for Carol to save him. I don’t know what they were thinking. Carol is Finn’s birth mom. She wasn’t Burt’s mate at the time, but they were definitely sniffing tails. They had to know Burt would go after them.”

“They did,” Kurt voice said from behind them. He came around the couch and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of them, a glass of orange juice in his hand. “They figured Dad would hunt them and they’d pick him off the same way they did Finn.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed at how close Blaine was cuddled with Sam, but he didn’t say anything about it. Blaine considered moving away from the other male, but opted not to. If Kurt was going to get all-possessive before Blaine had shown any real interest, then he had no desire to form a relationship of any kind with the Alpha. 

“Finn’s important to us all. Most of us were still going to the human high school back then, and Finn really helped us out there. It took everyone hard when he nearly died. We, the teenagers, made a decision to drive the troublemaking older ones out. But Dad couldn’t do it. He’s getting older, and he was finally ready to take a new mate. Plus someone had to stay and guard Finn.”

“So, what? You challenged your own father?” Blaine asked.

“That’s exactly what I did,” Kurt replied. “That way, the only way he could keep me from fighting the elders was to fight me himself. So he made the only choice he could; he yielded.”

“Then what happened?” Blaine asked, biting into his blueberry muffin.

“We made them an ultimatum,” Sam answered. “New rules; follow them or get lost. The biggest of the adults, a guy called Kowalski, challenged Kurt for Alpha. Kowalski was bad news. A huge, brutish, dirty fighter of a wolf. Burt was the only one who could ever keep him in line.”

“And?” Blaine asked.

“I won,” Kurt interjected simply. He stood up and disappeared into the kitchen.

Sam frowned at his Alpha’s retreating from. “Really, Kurt? That’s all you’re going to say?” 

Sam turned to face him. “Blaine, believe me, it was one hell of a fight. I think if Kurt had only been fighting for himself he’d never have survived it. But it wasn’t just for him, it was for all of us; Finn, Burt, Carol, a mateless pregnant girl they’d tried to drive out, among others, we were all counting on him. And he pulled through. Killed the big, bad wolf, though it cost him some serious scars. Have you seen his back? No? Look sometime. That damn wolf tried to dig his spine out before Kurt managed to flip them and get a death grip on his neck.” 

Sam grinned. “And then we partied. We weren’t all that organized at the time, see. For a good long while it was more Lord of the Flies than Mutiny on the Bounty around here. Both excellent movies, by the way.”

“The books were better,” Blaine commented.

“They made those movies into books?” Sam asked. “Weird. Anyway, once Kurt recovered from the Alpha battle, he brought us all to heel. No one else would risk fighting him. Anyone that didn’t like his rules, which was most of the older adults, left. So now Heartsong is the Lost Boys Pack, complete with our very own Peter Pan.” 

Kurt did look a bit like Peter Pan, Blaine decided. He wasted a few minutes internally raging that this major battle had gone on just beyond his territory and no one had bothered to tell him. 

He’d been obliviously chasing squirrels and hiding in his room with his guitar while just across the river kids his age were fighting, literally risking their lives, for change. He wondered how many of those older wolves had migrated to his pack. He could think of several that he’d met in his later years that fit the general description. And did that make his Father Captain Hook? 

Blaine finished his breakfast, waved goodbye to Sam and went back to his room. He’d planned on spending some quiet time thinking, but he must have been more exhausted then he realized. He fell asleep shortly after lying down. 

It was later afternoon when he woke again, and this time the house was quiet. Most of the folk who'd come in for breakfast had gone. Santana was still in the living room, typing animatedly on her phone.

“Hey, little hobbit. You lost or just wandering?” she asked when he appeared.

“You judge, yet you’re the one making Lord of the Rings references,” Blaine replied with equanimity. “Did he like your gift?”

“Huh?”

“The suitor you were trying to impress. Did he like your tail scalp?”

“Oh, that. Yes, SHE liked it quite a bit. Said she was going to use it to make a stole for her cat.” 

Blaine blinked, taking a moment to attempt to absorb that image, then gave up. “Do you know where Kurt is?”

“Why should I know? I’m not my Alpha’s keeper,” Santana told him irritably, her attention already focused back on her phone. 

“Okay,” Blaine replied softly. Picking up on the subtle hint that his presence wasn’t welcome, he turned to leave. 

“Oy, Mini-me!” Blaine turned back to her, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “Be back here in an hour. Kurt spent the morning talking with his top four about what the hell we’re supposed to do with you.”

“And?” Blaine asked cautiously.

“And be here in an hour,” she snapped without looking up. “Weren’t you listening?”

Right. Blaine sighed. He noticed a shelf full of books on the other side of the room. He gave the annoying she-wolf a wide berth, taking care to walk well out of reach, and surveyed the titles. 

Selecting one he hadn’t read in a while, Blaine found his way to a set of back doors, discovering a huge outdoor patio littered with outdoor furniture, several smooth rocks that looked good for a wolf to sunbath on, and a sunken fire pit. Even in the sunlight it was cold, but he found a pile of Navajo-style blankets neatly folded in the corner by the house. 

Wrapping himself into a neat burrito, Blaine settled onto one of the hammock chairs to read. With his cellphone hours away in the wrong direction, he had no alarm but he wasn’t particularly worried. His scent was easy enough to track; the pack would find him when they were ready. Until then, he lost himself in a world of dragons, time-turners, and a boy who lived.  
\------------------------

“Blaine?” Sam called, interrupting him midway through his hippogryph ride. Blaine reluctantly closed his book and looked up. 

“Can you come inside? We’d like to discuss some things with you.”

“Of course. I’ll be right in.” Blaine fleetingly wished he’d had time to finish his ride over the Forbidden Forest, but hopefully he’d have a chance to get back to that place.

Blaine stood, dropping the blanket and stretching his body to work out the kinks. Catching a familiar scent, he noticed Kurt at the door, watching him. No, admiring him, Blaine decided. 

He stretched a little more, allowing the shirt to ride up and expose the tan skin and musculature of his belly and pelvic ‘V’. He may not be fit for distance running and barely able to catch a squirrel, but he was still pretty. Time to make it work for him instead of against him for a change.

He walked back into the house, headed toward the small group of people reclining in the living room. Kurt was there, and Santana, of course. Burt was conspicuously absent, which didn’t surprise Blaine, but he was still a little disappointed. The older wolf had a soothing way about him. 

Blaine didn’t recognize the large man lazily stretched out in the big reclining chair, but he was roughly the same age as the rest of the adults Blaine had met and looked like he cracked skulls for a living. Then the man smiled in friendly greeting, warm expression reaching his eyes, and Blaine rethought his first impression. Still, he was big. Blaine took a seat on one of the smaller love seats, and stared at his feet, feeling incredibly alone among this close-knit crew. 

Kurt glanced down at his watch, muttering to himself. Presently a wolf so tan she looked almost peach trotted in. Glittering water slithered down her body as she shifted into a blonde female with sea-foam green eyes. As a human, she was just a little smaller than Blaine. Kurt tossed her a pair of sweats and a shirt. 

“Blaine, this is Quinn. She’s late, as usual. You already know Sam and Santana.”

“Fashionably late is a thing, Kurt,” Quinn said airily, ignoring her Alpha’s huff of annoyance as she dressed and took a seat next to Santana. Right next to her. The two women smiled at each other in a very familiar way, though it didn’t smell quite like mating dance to Blaine.

Blaine smiled hesitantly at the blonde, then turned and looked over towards the giant of a man spilling out of the lazyboy. Blaine had never seen him; he’d have remembered that, though he’d caught his scent around the house. 

“Hi,” the flesh mountain said, waving casually when Kurt didn’t introduce him. “I’m Dave. Nice to meet you, Cutie pie.” He winked. 

“That’s Dave Kowalski,” Kurt stated coolly, glaring at Dave. “Dave, Blaine Anderson.” 

Blaine looked the big wolf over curiously. Santana, Kurt, (maybe Quinn?), and now this Dave guy. Were there any straight wolves in the whole pack besides Burt? He glanced over at Sam. 

The wolf was slouched over; legs spread wide, wearing loose jeans and an olive green tank under a red flannel, scratching absently at his waist. Well, one at least. And just Blaine’s luck it’d be that one. Then he caught up with Kurt’s words. 

“Kowalski?” Blaine asked, thoroughly confused. “But I thought…”

“That was my dad you’re thinking of,” Dave told him. “I’m Kowalski junior.”

Blaine’s eyes widened and he glanced over at Kurt. The Alpha looked back at him steadily.

“So you, umm…” 

“Killed Dave’s father? Yes, I did.” 

Dave, for his part, looked sad, but not particularly upset. “Dad challenged Kurt first,” he told Blaine in explanation. “There was nothing Kurt could do about that. For what it’s worth, he’d have either driven me out or flat out killed me himself when he figured out that I was gay, so it’s hard to hold too much of a grudge.”

While sad to hear, Blaine was a little relieved to hear that he wasn’t the only one with unresolvable father issues. He wondered how he’d feel if he found out his Father was dead. Relieved, mostly, he decided. 

“We’ve been talking about you,” Kurt said to Blaine, changing the subject and pulling Blaine back out of his head and into the conversation. Blaine sat back, patiently awaiting their verdict. He was well accustomed to having his life dictated for him.

“There’s room here for more werewolves, and the general consensus is that you’d be a welcome addition. Here’s our problem; you’re too young to decide on your own to join with a new pack,” Kurt explained.

Blaine glanced down at his feet. Right. There was that. He’d hoped that maybe this renegade pack might overlook that little rule, but apparently not. They were going to return him to his Father. 

This was exactly what he’d been most afraid of. He stiffened his spine, preparing for the futile attempt to run. Blaine had been allowed very few decisions about his life; but he knew one absolute truth. He wasn’t going back.

“So, basically, you need to stay hidden for the next three weeks until your birthday,” Kurt continued blithely, unaware that Blaine was silently drowning in despair. “Once you officially turn seventeen, you can formally apply to join the Heartsong pack, if you still want to.” Blaine’s head shot up. What?

“We’re going to approve the request, if that helps any,” Sam added with a big grin.

“Wait. I can stay?” He asked glancing at the faces around him for confirmation.

“If that’s what you want. Yes, you can stay,” Kurt promised smiling warmly. 

Gut-wrenching relief filled him. This pack felt so right to Blaine, strong and healthy, as close as family, though he wasn’t all that familiar with that type of connection. He’d liked everyone he’d met so far, even Santana. At least the abrasive she-wolf was upfront and honest with her venom. Frankly, it was refreshing. 

This was the type of pack he’d dreamed of finding, and they wanted him. Blaine hastily suppressed the tendrils of dread that burned in his belly at the thought of the inevitable joining ceremony. There wasn’t anything he could do about that. Anyway, he’d be paying that price whether he’d stayed home or had run. At least this way he’d be getting something of value out of it. This way it was his choice. It would be enough to get him through it.

He noticed the prolonged silence and realized they were waiting for his answer. 

“I’d very much like to join the Heartsong pack. Thank you,” he told them. 

“Alright!” Sam said brightly, rising to clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll like it here, I promise. Kurt really takes care of us.” 

Blaine smiled at that, glancing over at his soon-to-be Alpha. Kurt was still standing in the middle of the room, grinning softly, his blue-grey eyes sparkling when their gazes met.

Blaine swallowed, breaking eye contact and dropping his gaze. He wasn’t sure how to interpret that look but he’d definitely caught the familiar gleam of intent. Well, Kurt was just going to have to wait. He’d get what he wanted soon enough.  
\----------------------

Blaine spent the next several days lounging around Kurt’s house and recovering from his long run. The large home was pack central, and it seemed as if a steady stream of Heartsong wolves regularly popped in to watch TV, hang out, or just grab a quick lunch. 

He learned that a number of the pack members still attended the local high school, while those that could afford it trekked out to distant Dalton Academy. Kurt had graduated the previous year and was taking classes at the local community college along with Puck and David. 

Burt explained that his mate was away visiting her home pack, though she’d be back next month. It seemed odd to Blaine that Burt was still here while his Carol was so far away, but Burt told him he needed to stay close to keep Kurt out of trouble. And Carol was more than capable of defending herself from anything that may attempt her harm. Her son Finn was away as well, working on a technical degree and living with his mate Rachel while she went to college in New York. 

No one specifically said it, but Blaine could read between the lines to figure out that Rachel was Pack second when she was home. Blaine found numerous framed pictures of the tiny brunette; frequently arm in arm with Kurt, though there was several of her with a man nearly as big as Dave. The man looked a little goofy; if Blaine were being honest, but his devotion to his mate was clear in the star struck way he looked at her in every picture. 

In Rachel’s absence, Santana assumed the role of Second. Tiny as she was, Santana was able defeat his father’s Hunters in a fight. Blaine wondered just how strong Rachel had to be if she was tougher still. 

Early in the afternoon of his fourth day among the Heartsong wolves, Sam found him lounging on the outdoor hammock, reading. “Hey, man. It’s a great day outside, sunny and brisk. Want to go for a run?” Sam asked casually.

Blaine cocked his head, considering the offer. “I’d love that, actually. Are you certain that I’m allowed to leave?”

“Oh, sure. Just make sure you’re with one of us.”

A chance to get out of the house and explore sounded divine to Blaine. His feet had completely healed and he was more than ready to get out for a bit. Blaine eagerly began to strip. He stood naked in the cold air a moment later, and hesitated. He was small for a werewolf, both as a human and wolf. He worried about reminding the pack of his diminutive stature and changing their mind about taking him in. 

But, he sternly reminded himself, Sam had already seen his wolf form. So had Kurt, and the Alpha didn’t seem to find anything lacking in him. Not to mention that some of the toughest Hunters in this pack were scarcely larger than himself. Just one more thing that made him challenge a lot of the things his father had always told him. 

He released his hold on his human form, his transition smooth and easy. Smell and hearing rushed him as his human-dull senses became wolf-sharp. He raised his head to sample the air. It smelled crisp and cold, and he inhaled, filling his lungs. 

He experimentally leapt a bit. Not even a hint of soreness lingered, he noted in satisfaction. A loud ‘yip’ called for his attention and Blaine trotted over to where Wolf-Sam waited. The big wolf guided him out of the yard, nimbly jumping the 6 six- foot fence. Blaine followed, breaking into a trot, then a run as Sam took him along the driveway and down the road towards the woods. 

Two hours later, panting and happily exhausted, he walked at an easy pace back up the driveway, Sam at his side. Blaine had adored every second of the opportunity to run all out, even if he was paying for it now in achy muscles. 

\--------------------------

The next day, Wolf-Santana and a medium sized, chocolate Labrador colored she-wolf found him cleaning breakfast dishes in the kitchen. The girls couldn’t talk, but the way they yanked on his sleeve was clear enough. 

Blaine put away the last of the plates and changed, following the pair on what to turned out to be yet another long excursion. His sore pads didn’t particularly appreciate the prolonged exercise, but he still managed to keep up well enough. The girls were playful, clearly flirting with each other, but integrating Blaine as well in games of wolf- tag, interposed between lengthy runs.

The following day it was Sam again and Blaine was beginning to detect a pattern. When Kurt himself tracked him down the day after that, Blaine decided to ask for some answers.

“What’s with all the runs?” He asked the lean alpha as he stripped. “I appreciate that you don’t want me to get bored, and I love stretching my legs, don’t get me wrong, but this appears to be a little contrived.”

“No, this is a lot contrived,” Kurt replied in good humor as he carefully folded the exquisite sapphire blue Marc Jacobs sweater he’d been wearing. 

“You were an exhausted, bloody mess when you first arrived. While I appreciate that you were being hunted and driving yourself hard, you shouldn’t have been that wrecked after only two days; particularly your pads.”

Blaine felt the need to defend himself. “I’m not lazy, if that’s what you’re implying. The deficit was deliberate.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t. What do you mean?”

“My father took a number of steps to ensure I stayed dependent,” Blaine said as he pulled off one shoe. “One of those ways was preventing me from becoming truly fit. I have nice musculature, but that’s about it. My exercise has always been limited to short sprints interposed with frequent breaks. I have virtually no endurance to speak of and I’ve never in my life hunted anything larger than a rabbit.”

“That’s horrible. How could he possibly believe that was in any way beneficial for you? Some misguided attempt to keep you home where he could protect you?”

Blaine laughed harshly. He only wished his Father’s intentions had been that altruistic. “It had nothing to do with my welfare. You have to have noticed that I’m small for a werewolf, and don't have much in the way of Dominance.” Blaine looked down, suddenly very interested in each button required to take off his shirt.

“My older brother Cooper is everything Father wanted in a son. Strong, very Dominate. And straight, of course. Mustn’t forget that. Cooper’s only flaw was following his heart when a passing female stole it. When she refused to join the pack here, he went with her. He’s happily mated, and training with the Alpha of his new pack to take over when that one retires. Good for Cooper, but bad for my Father.”

Blaine shrugged. “I think he was hoping to be like your dad. Retired but still respected. Powerful, enjoying the perks of leadership without the unpleasant responsibilities of protecting and leading. I know Burt isn’t like that,” Blaine said hastily before Kurt could object. “But I think that’s what Father wanted.” 

He sighed. “Obviously I’m not anything like Alpha material. And Cooper took off. Since his plans of sitting pretty behind a ruling son are ruined, he decided he’d barter me to a Dominant male instead. Get what he could out of me, right?”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, resting a hand on his naked shoulder, radiating feelings of comfort and security. 

“It’s okay, Kurt. I’m okay. You can back off with the Alpha ju-ju.” Blaine smiled gently at the protective Dominant, knowing that Kurt couldn’t help it. It was a fundamental aspect of Kurt personality, and it made the wolfy part of Blaine want to wriggle happily. But human Blaine didn’t need the coddling, and he still worried that admitting his weakness would cost him. 

“I just want you to understand the level of control I grew up with. If you’d seen the wolves he was looking to mate me to,” Blaine shuddered. “Just, no. That’s why I ran, knowing the odds were not in my favor.”

“That was brave of you,” Kurt said, surprising him. He’d thought Kurt would be disgusted when he realized how weak Blaine really was, maybe even rescind his offer to let Blaine into the pack. 

“I’m sorry it was like that for you,” Kurt continued. “But it isn’t how things are done here. Everyone in this pack is expected to be able to fight. No exceptions. Yes, I’m deliberately sending you out on long runs. It’ll help build up your stamina and let you learn and explore the pack territory.” 

Blaine was touched by the thoughtfulness, but a little saddened to realize the others hadn’t sought him out in friendship, but at their Alpha’s order. 

Kurt rightly interpreted his thoughts and grinned crookedly.

“Trust me, there’s been no shortage of volunteers. I actually had to pull Alpha rights to displace Puck this morning because he wanted to be next. The girls have been gossiping about how much fun you are to chase.” 

Blaine laughed at that. “It was fun, even if I got nipped a lot.”

Kurt smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. Santana can be…a lot. Puck are Dave are both going out with you tomorrow, if that’s alright?”

“The more the merrier,” Blaine said cheerfully, wondering if the real reason Kurt had those two teaming up had less to do with taking turns and more with the way Dave had called him ‘cutie pie.’

Conversation over, Kurt’s human form smoothly melted away, leaving the great white beast in its wake. He gave Blaine a friendly nudge and they were off.

Running with Kurt was different than with his previous excursions into Heartsong land. For one thing, the Alpha wolf was so gods-cursedly fast. Not just that, but Kurt didn’t just take him running down the meadows and deer paths. No, they jumped creeks, ducked through small underground passages, and even climbed trees.

And Kurt. Kurt’s love of life was infectious. He ran like it was his last sprint, sniffed every scent like it was new. He patiently gave Blaine time when exploring new things, and while he pushed Blaine’s endurance to the limit and past; he was supportive and, well, fun. 

Blaine soaked his feet after dinner that night, savoring the soreness that came from a day well spent. He was particularly looking forward to the next morning. Kurt had told him that he could start sparring lessons at any time. Blaine had been sleeping in every day since his arrival, never knowing that every morning at six o’clock any wolf that wanted to could meet in the back yard for sparring sessions and training. 

He set his bedside clock, determined not to miss a single practice. He was heartily sick of being defenseless. No one in this pack told him he was too small, or not Dominant enough to be a fighter. No one believed he was weak. It was past time he stopped thinking it himself.  
\-------------

Blaine woke before his alarm and wolfed down some of the hearty peanut butter and banana oatmeal from the massive kitchen crockpot, trotting outside where he heard the sounds of people gathering in back. A number of wolves in both human and wolf form had paired up and were having small mock battles. Burt and an older, shorthaired female that he’d never met before carefully oversaw the pairs.

“Hey, Young Burt Reynolds! Get your fluffy tail over here. Kurt says we need to toughen you up. You are officially all mine. Welcome to your own personal hell.” 

Blaine glanced at his butt to make sure that did not, in fact, have his tail on, then trotted over to the lanky woman in the bright red tracksuit. She smelled a little crazy, but he decided not to hold that against her. That didn’t last long. 

“My name is Sue. Trust me, you will never forget it. Someday, in the twilight hours of your existence when you barely remember your own name and your grown children have happily consigned you to a Lysol-smelling home for the ancient and decrepit, somewhere in the deep recesses of your dementia-riddled cranium, you will still remember the name Sue Sylvester. Now, lets start easy. Blocks.” 

Without further ado, She punched him in the shoulder with the force of a jackhammer, knocking him to the ground. Blaine clutched his arm, groaning.

“That was terrible. Stand up, let’s try it again.” This time, Blaine attempted to block the punch, but only succeeded in keeping his feet. The third time he failed to stop the same punch, Sue sighed theatrically.

“Clearly I have my work cut out for me. Don’t worry, pup. Sue Sylvester never gives up. No matter how hopeless the case seems. Now, punch me.” Blaine grinned fiercely; he could definitely handle that order.

He wasn’t quite sure how he ended up on the ground with the wind thoroughly knocked out of him, but that’s where he found himself just a few minutes later. Sue had deftly blocked his punch, caught his arm and then he was flying. 

It got a little better after that. A little. Sue called Quinn and Puck over, using the pair to demonstrate moves for Blaine in slow motion before she had him attempt them with her. It wasn’t the longest two hours of Blaine’s life, but it was definitely among his top five.

Two hours and a century later, he limped weakly to the kitchen after practice, digging through the hearty food being prepared by a grinning Sam. Once he’d stuffed himself with bacon and pancakes, Blaine dragged his battered body to his bathroom. Maybe he’d get lucky and drown in the tub and not have to endure this ever again.

Blaine was enjoying his soothing soak when he heard a tentative knock on the door. He sniffed at the air. “Go away, Kurt. I’m not talking to you,” he called out. 

The door opened a tiny crack and a pale hand snuck through holding a Toblerone chocolate bar, shaking it gently. Blaine eyed the pinnacle of edible Swiss art and growled to himself. 

“Is that the toffee one?”

“Yes.”

“I’m still not talking to you. Leave the chocolate by the tub and go.” 

The rest of Kurt slid into the bathroom. He closed the door and leaned against it, a rueful expression on his face. “Sorry.”

“Uh huh,” Blaine said in clear disinterest.

“Sue’s the best trainer we have right now,” Kurt tried again. 

Blaine rolled over in the tub onto his side, so that he was fully facing the attractive Alpha and scowled ferociously. “She’s the Devil made flesh.” 

“You’re not wrong.” Kurt sat down on the closed toilet seat and unwrapped half the candy bar, passing it over.

Blaine accepted the treat and took a bite, still glaring daggers at the other wolf. 

“Just give her a week, then I’ll switch you out to work with Dad. I promise.”

“You’re assuming I’ll survive the week,” Blaine said sullenly, taking another bite of the bar. Rich milk chocolate and toffee exploded on his tongue. God, it was good. 

Kurt laughed. “I promise, you’ll survive.”

“So says you,” Blaine told him sourly. “One week. Then I get Burt.” 

“Agreed,” Kurt agreed swiftly. “I’m guessing you don’t want to go for a run today?”

“You can go away, now,” Blaine told him firmly, closing his eyes. Kurt chuckled but straightened to leave. 

“Oh, Kurt?” Blaine called.

Kurt turned back, “Yes?”

“Thank you for the chocolate.” 

Kurt’s gaze softened, a smile warming his features. “You’re very welcome. Here,” Kurt set a bottle of homemade lotion on the counter. “Use this when you get out. It’s one of Carol’s creations and soothes sore muscles like a dream.” He gently closed the door behind him.

Blaine smiled softly, taking another bite of his chocolate.  
\-------------------

The second day of training wasn’t much better, and the third promised to be even worse. By day four of the six he’d promised (Sunday was always off), Blaine was ready to bite something. Sue had absolutely no regard for his previous injuries. The only saving grace was after the first hour she left him with Burt in order to monitor an intense sparring session before it could become a genuine Dominance fight. 

Still, Blaine ached everywhere. He didn’t blame Sue. Oh, no. He’d watched her work with others and saw that her brutal training methods weren’t specific to him. She treated everyone exactly the same way. No, Blaine blamed Kurt for siccing the blonde sadist on him in the first place.

Blaine tried another soothing bath after dinner, hoping to soak away the ache. It was only partially successful, Blaine decided, collapsing on his bed once he’d toweled dry. He glanced over at his nightstand, catching sight of the green bottle of pain-soothing lotion. He grinned to himself and pulled his royal blue bathrobe over a pair cotton boxer briefs.

Blaine had never been to Kurt’s room, but he knew roughly were it was and had no trouble scenting his way to the correct door. It was partially open, and Blaine heard sounds of movement within. He peered in, seeing Kurt reclining on the bed in jammie pants, a book in his hand. Perfect. He gave the door a firm knock.

“Hello? Blaine, come on in. Are you okay?” Kurt called out.

Blaine slipped in, closing the door behind him. “I’m sore,” he told Kurt. “Sue is evil.”

Kurt relaxed, seeing that Blaine wasn’t in any real trouble. “She’s not evil. Well, mostly not.” 

Blaine snorted. He tossed the lotion onto the bed next to Kurt and undid his robe, letting the fabric slide down his body to the floor. Hiding his smile at Kurt’s gasp, he climbed onto the bed and crawled into the center of the mattress, sprawling on his belly, limbs comfortably splayed. 

“Everything aches,” he told Kurt, his voice muffled in the mattress. “And I can’t reach half the places to put the cream.”

“And you decided that I should help with this?” Kurt asked. Blaine made a ‘hmm’ sound of assent and wiggled his body. 

Kurt groaned. “And you accuse Sue of being evil,” he muttered. Blaine wriggled again, not bothering to answer. 

Sighing, Kurt set his book on the bedside table and rose to his knees. Blaine heard the ‘click’ of a cap opening and scented the strong odor of aloe from the healing balm as Kurt squirted a liberal dose onto Blaine’s bare back.

Blaine relaxed his shoulders, humming in contentment as Kurt began to rub the lotion into his sore shoulders. The touch became a deep, skillful massage, and Blaine drifted, enjoying the relaxing contact.

It hadn’t taken Blaine long to figure out that Kurt took consent and mutual respect very, very seriously. He’d never invade where he wasn’t sure of his welcome. Blaine trusted the Alpha enough that he could lay like this, half naked and vulnerable, and know that Kurt would never take advantage. And Kurt was plenty smart enough to recognize revenge when he saw it. 

Kurt positively reeked of desire, even as his heated hands steadily worked the sore spots on Blaine’s torso, keeping the touch professional. Blaine flipped when Kurt asked, enjoying the same treatment on his chest, arms, and legs. 

“There.” Kurt said finally. “All done. Unless you'd like to stay the night…”

“Nope,” Blaine replied casually, sitting up and working his way off the mammoth bed. The rub really had helped his muscles. He grabbed the lotion and slid his robe back on. “Thanks, Kurt. I’ll track you down again tomorrow once Sue is through with me.”

Blaine fought back a laugh when Kurt groaned, falling face-first onto his bed. “I don’t like you right now,” he told Blaine, tone muffled by the mattress.

Blaine chuckled. “Sure you do. Good night, Kurt.”

Kurt lifted his head and smiled. “Good night, Blaine. Sleep well.” 

Blaine closed Kurt’s door softly behind him and made his way back to his room. He really did feel much better, both from the rub down and his just vengeance. Teasing Kurt was…fun. A game. Kurt knew how to keep the tone light while still letting Blaine know how affected he was. Blaine wondered if it would still be like that after he’d been properly inducted into the pack and lost his mystique.  
\------------

Kurt landed heavily on the couch after breakfast in the main room, watching the fire snap, crackle and pop. Sam found him that way a short while later and dropped onto the nearest chair.

“What’s up, boss-man?”

Kurt groaned. “Blaine! Blaine is ‘what’s up’. He blames me for assigning Sue to him as trainer and has been relentlessly teasing me as punishment. Rubbing lotion into all that gorgeous skin that I’m not allowed to taste is torture.”

“Is that why you smell so frustrated? Good for him. That was pretty mean of you, pairing him with Sue when he’s so out of shape.”

“He said he wanted to be able to defend himself and not feel like a victim. Sue can do that better than any of the others. My dad would coddle him too much and Carol isn’t back yet.”

“True enough,” Sam agreed. “Still mean, though. Have you tried going any further than play? Maybe he’s trying to make a pass?”

“He isn’t,” Kurt said definitely. “The only reason he dares this much is because he knows I’m safe.”

“And there’s a definitive endgame with you,” Sam noted.

Kurt sighed. “That too. I’m not looking forward to it, believe me. He’s so skittish about the whole joining ceremony. I think his father really did a number on him. I know it isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s not that horrible. You didn't seem that bothered by it.”

“No, it wasn’t horrible,” Sam agreed. “I mean, it wasn’t a picnic. Being fucked by the Alpha in front of the whole pack wasn’t my idea of a good time. You’re a good-looking dude and all, but I don’t swing that way. And it wasn’t exactly comfortable physically; you’re a lot of man down there, ya know?” 

“I hurt you,” Kurt said, looking away.

“No,” Sam replied instantly, swinging his legs around and sitting properly in the chair so he could face his Alpha. “I mean, well, yeah, it hurt a little. Obviously I’d never done anything like that before. But you pulled my mind so fast that I didn’t have much time to worry about anything. Honestly, I don’t remember most of it. Everything faded away and then I was coming my brains out on the forest floor. When I came to I felt the touch of Pack around me and knew I was home.” Sam smiled warmly.

“You did good by me. The others that you inducted will tell you the same, Kurt. You take good care of us.” 

“I just wish there was another way to bring new wolves in,” Kurt said. “It’s barbaric, claiming your bodies like that.”

“From what I recall, you were plenty into it at the time,” Sam smirked.

“That was the Dominant Alpha thing at work,” Kurt said hotly, blushing a little.

“And because I’m super hot.”

“And because your super hot,” Kurt agreed, smiling a little. 

“Relax, big-dog. Blaine’s time will come and you’ll take care of him, too.” Sam stood, giving Kurt a reassuring pat on the leg then wandered away.

Burt came in a short while later, dropping heavily into the abandoned seat.

“He’s going to hate me,” Kurt said, with a sigh, not bothering to ask if Burt had been eavesdropping.

“No, he won’t. Blaine’s wolf-born, Kurt. He was raised expecting this type of thing. And he’s tougher than I think you're giving him credit for. If he’d been taught right, he’d be taking this in stride and wouldn’t be so messed up over it.” 

Kurt didn’t answer.

“Hey, you think it was a party for me when the O’Connell’s asked permission to join the pack? Ilona is the stronger of the pair, so I had to take her in the middle of the pack in front of her mate and teen-age son. And I wasn’t born a werewolf. The whole process seemed pretty horrifying. If your mom hadn’t explained it to me as well as she had, and nature hadn’t taken its course once the ceremony started, there’s no way I could’ve gone through with it.”

“There has to be a better way,” Kurt muttered.

“None that I’ve ever found. And believe me, kiddo, I looked. You are Alpha. You have to make them yours in order to bring them in, and the First Pack dictated that the rest of the pack shall be allowed to stand witness. It’s a tradition as old as the creation of fire. One of the many reasons I’m thrilled to be leaving the business of running the pack in your very capable paws.”

“Funny,” Kurt told him with a hint of a growl. Burt just laughed.

“It’ll be okay, Kurt.” 

Kurt hoped so. He was too aware that what he was feeling for the ballsy young wolf already went well beyond mere friendship.

\-------------------

Three weeks went by faster then Blaine could have imagined. He could run for several hours now without tiring or getting sore. And Burt was really good at teaching him how to defend himself. He had to admit, (though never to Kurt), that getting through that first week in Sue’s tender care was good for him.

“My first wife was one hell of a Hunter,” Burt told him after practice one day while they sipped coffee on one of the big couches. “She started teaching me to fight shortly after she changed me over. She taught Kurt too, practically from the moment he started walking.” 

Burt hadn’t known it, but he’d been slowly dying from a congenital heart defect that guaranteed he’d never see 25. A chance x-ray following a rough bout of pneumonia revealed the defect. 

Burt’s high school sweetheart didn’t take the diagnosis well. She decided that the man she’d chosen for her mate wouldn’t be dying any time soon. Burt accepted her offer to make him a werewolf, the transition healing any illnesses his human body suffered from. Burt came through the change without any trouble, the loving mates soon got down to the business of raising a family. Of course, neither could have predicted the flash flood that left a changed man alone with a young, wolf-born son. 

“You’re an excellent father,” Blaine told him sincerely. “Kurt’s a good man and an incredible Alpha.”

“Well, he gets that from his mother,” Burt replied. “She was very Dominant herself, and bore us an equally strong son. No one could have predicted that after I was changed I’d out power her.” A brief sheen flashed over his eyes, hinting at the Dominance hidden beneath his casual veneer. 

“I think the ruling powers of that time wouldn’t have been as quick to approve my change if they’d had a clue I’d end up boss of them all.” He shook his head, banishing old demons. 

“But that was a long time ago. The kids running this place now, they’re good people. You’ll like being in this pack. We’re a close bunch.”

“I can see that,” Blaine agreed sincerely. “I look forward to it.” Just not the actual joining part, he added silently, hiding his flash of anxiety with practiced skill.  
\----------------

There were a lot of things about being among the Heartsong pack that Blaine adored. His future pack mates for sure: hanging out with Sam, games of pool with Puck and Dave, lazy coffee dates with Kurt, the food, (God! The food), sparring in the morning…the list went on. But his absolute favorite was to finally be allowed to really run. It awakened parts of him that had spent most of his life dormant. 

Blaine was happy to go out with anyone who asked, though Kurt was definitely his favorite. Kurt always showed him the best places. Nooks and crannies where a nimble wolf could hide, deer trails through what first appeared impassable thorn bushes, and Blaine’s absolute favorite, a natural hot spring. 

He loved soaking in the warm water, casually bantering with Kurt, talking about books they’d both read or movies. Occasionally he talked about his family life, purging the poison of his past and letting the Alpha wolf soothe the aches with kind words and touches. 

Sometimes Blaine wondered why Kurt bothered with him. After all, Blaine was a fait accompli. He wanted to join the pack, and that meant submitting to Kurt. Publicly, in front of everyone. Blaine shuddered, recalling the previous inductions he’d witnessed. 

He vividly recalled watching his Father fiercely putting a female on all fours, stealing her mind and body, making her writhe and beg for him. Even then he’d hated hearing the way some of the men leered and bet on how long until the girl ‘whored out’ beneath the Alpha’s demanding touch. 

How could Kurt possibly have any interest in Blaine after he’d seen him like that? Blaine hoped that when his time came, he took it better than the pathetic, mewling wolves he’d watched. But he doubted it.  
\-------------

The day of his seventeenth birthday arrived with a shocking lack of drama. Blaine had always dreaded his coming-of-age among his old pack, terrified of the brutish older males his father always kept on his short-list of son-in-laws. But no one among the Heartsong pack said anything about his claiming. Blaine expected at any moment to be dragged outside for the joining ceremony; he made sure to be available and easy to find. But no one came.

It wasn’t as if they had forgotten about him. Sam showed up at his room that afternoon with pizza and cake for a party of two. During their private celebration, he explained that permanent pack members typically didn’t live in Kurt’s house, and Sam had a spare room at his home just down the street if Blaine was interested in being roommates.

Blaine readily accepted, and as soon as the pizza was reduced to a fond memory they began moving his meager collection of belongings to the small second floor room of Sam’s house. 

Several pack members appeared to help him clean the place out, bringing small tokens of welcome, a handmade quilt, stout clothes. Puck brought him a shift-friendly carry pack. Blaine scented Kurt close by during the move and knew he was watching, but the Alpha never made an appearance himself. 

After his first month among the Heartsong wolves passed without mention of the Joining ceremony, Blaine finally quit worrying about it. He was as good as pack, anyway. The details would happen when they did. 

Instead, he applied to take the GED and began studying for that milestone. His father hadn’t allowed him to attend school, but he’d required that any son of his be well educated, and Blaine had grown up with some of the finest private tutors money could buy.

Blaine was sitting in the backyard working through a prep book under the last remnants of waning sunlight when her heard the howls. He cocked his head, listening for the particular cadence that would tell him what was being communicated. 

Alert and Gather. 

He marked his place and went inside to find a tense, guarded Kurt waiting for him in the kitchen. “I need to talk to you.” 

“Okay,” Blaine agreed cautiously.

“Your father found you.” 

Blaine blinked. He hadn’t realized that it was still a concern.

“The morning after you arrived, I had Puck drag the clothes you’d bled in across the edge of our territory behind the truck. The scent trail led to our border with the Bloodmoon pack. We’re on good terms with them. Quinn talked to some friends there, and managed to start a rumor about a curly haired, underage wolf travelling through their territory trying to head east to his mother’s pack.”

It made perfect sense, Blaine realized. It’s where he would have gone if he still believed his mom cared about him. In addition, his Father was well aware of Blaine’s trepidations regarding the joining ritual. Since Blaine’s mother was already a pack member, he could join with the Nightstride pack through her ties and forgo the public ceremony entirely. 

Now Blaine understood why his Father had been uncharacteristically absent these last few months. He hadn’t given up on Blaine after all; he’d just been looking for him in the wrong place. Blaine looked admiringly at Kurt. The alpha’s plan had been simple and perfect. Until now, anyway.

“He finally figured out that he’s been led astray,” Kurt continued after giving Blaine a moment to take it all in. “And instead of just calling me, he went through the Guardians of the First Pack and formally requested a meeting between Alphas. I can’t refuse or delay that.”

Blaine nodded in understanding. “When’s the meeting?” he asked calmly. 

“Two days from now. This Friday. Blaine, you need to be a real member of Heartsong for me to protect you. Please ask me to bring you into the pack.”

“Is that what you’ve been waiting for all this time? For me to ask?” Blaine asked in surprise. 

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of how it works,” Kurt replied with a faint smile. “I gave you as much time as I could,” he added apologetically. “But your father kind of forced my hand.”

“He’s good at that,” Blaine agreed. He swallowed. “Please Kurt. Allow me to join with the Heartsong pack?”

Kurt nodded fiercely, eyes bright and smelling strongly of relief. And other things. “Of course. Come on, everyone’s gathering at the Briars.” Wordlessly, Blaine began to strip. 

The Briars was what Heartsong called the place they gathered each full moon before the hunt. It was a wide chunk of uneven meadow hidden deep in the woods. The Briars was bordered by elms and pines on one side, while a river and thick set of thorn bushes protected the other edges. The first time Blaine had been there he’d smelled lots of sex and been pretty sure it was also where the pack held their ceremonies, including member inductions. Apparently he’d been right.

He changed to wolf, stretched away the residual tingles, and trotted out behind Kurt. The leggy Alpha set a steady, ground-eating pace that Blaine could handle comfortably. This was familiar. Running along beside Kurt, playing, exploring. Hell, Kurt had taken him on his first real hunt, helping him bring down a young stag. 

Blaine had never felt more alive then he did when he’d brought the great beast down with his own jaws. He’d howled Prey Song into the brisk night air, thrilling with pride when several of his friends answered the call to join in his bounty. 

The cheerful thoughts helped bolster him as they approached the Briars. He trusted Kurt to keep him safe. He just hoped they would still be friends after the Alpha wolf had taken his due.

A good three quarters of the pack had already arrived and he scented others on the wind, coming in fast. Blaine spotted Santana’s black fur, the Hunter twined around the tawny she-wolf, Brittany. Puck was there in human form, holding Quinn. She wore one of the easily carried summer dresses and leaned into him for warmth. Next to them, the enormous tan beast that was Sam sat Sphinx-style on a chunk of rock. Burt was there as well. The white dots speckling his great grey muzzle made him appear dignified rather than old. 

Heavy steps filled his ears and the bear-shaped, shaggy mass of Dave Kowalsky in werewolf form joined the group. Others followed, but Blaine stopped paying attention, his gaze locked on the white wolf standing front and center. The sensation of wolves changing shape tugged at his senses and he knew that most of the wolves around him were changing to human. He refused to look, desperately keeping his eyes locked on the Alpha.

Once everyone who was going to show had arrived, Kurt changed, standing tall. He always radiated a casual Dominance, but tonight the incredible magnitude of his true power radiated from his body, blanketing the wolves gathered in the meadow and beyond. He surveyed the gathered pack members, apparently satisfied with the numbers that had answered his call.

“Blaine, you’re up,” he said calmly. 

Okay, so they weren’t going to bother with any flowery speeches. He supposed that was best. Blaine swallowed and shifted. He stood straight, ignoring the way the chill raised goosebumps along his naked body. He wouldn’t be cold for long. 

“I ask to join with the Heartsong pack,” he stated loudly, hoping it was enough. If there was a proper way of phrasing the request, he didn’t know it.

Kurt glanced around. “What do you say?”

Choruses of ‘yes’, ‘hell yes’, one catty ‘if we must’ from Santana, and a number of affirming howls answered. 

Kurt glanced over at Burt, who nodded his grey head, having elected to stay in wolf form. Blaine smiled weakly at the older male, grateful for his presence no matter how awkward it’d be, before turning back to face Kurt.

“And I say yes, as well. It’s agreed. Blaine, come here.” 

Here goes everything, Blaine thought in resignation. He stepped up so that he was mere inches from Kurt and awaited the next order. 

“Get on all fours, Blaine,” Kurt told him gently. His eyes begged Blaine to trust him. 

Blaine didn’t hesitate to turn away and drop to the ground, spreading his thighs wide and presenting his ass. He closed his eyes, shame filling him at taking the submissive position in front of all the others, burning with humiliation at what was to follow. 

‘Good little bitch,’ his Father’s voice whispered in his mind. ‘You’ll like it eventually. Just another pack whore.’ Blaine took a deep breath and focused on the world around him, desperately trying to banish the hated words he’d grown up with. 

An icy wind blew across his bare skin, smelling of river and Pack and pine. Blaine dug his fingers into the frozen ground beneath his palms, fighting the urge to grow fur and claws and run. He heard the breathing and occasional movement of the people around him. Otherwise, the clearing was silent. There was no mocking laughter at his position; not a hint of jeering or name-calling. If anything, he felt their steadfast reassurance and support at his back. He could do this. 

He wasn’t left alone on the ground for long. Kurt pressed up behind him as soon as Blaine settled into position, shielding his vulnerability from those who stood witness. The Alpha’s hands were furnace hot as they stroked Blaine’s shivering body in long, soothing strokes.

“Please try and relax,” Kurt whispered in his ear. Blaine took a deep breath and exhaled. Deft fingers ran along his back to his ass cheeks, preparing him for touch against his sensitive hole. He tensed again.

Slick stickiness against his skin, and Kurt’s fingers were at his entrance, coaxing the tight ring to loosen for him. It didn’t feel good; Blaine was far too nervous for that, but it wasn’t terrible, or particularly painful. Blaine waited for the inevitable wave of pleasure that would drive reason away, drowning him sensation until he lost all control of his body.

Two fingers became three, and Blaine’s mind was still very much present. Then the fingers were gone and something even hotter was at his entrance. He heard Kurt’s soft voice murmuring for him to brace himself and then he was breached in the most intimate of ways.

Nudity was an odd thing among werewolf culture. Before and after a change it was politely ignored, just part of being. But when offered up in different settings, or the partial nudity of seduction, it was very much a sensitive point. 

Blaine had seen Kurt naked plenty of times, but hadn’t really paid attention. He had absently noticed that the Alpha wolf was seriously packing, but he hadn’t really thought on how that would affect him. Right now, it was all he could think about. Kurt’s cock felt enormous as it breached his virgin path, boring a space for itself where none had been before.

His hole burned as Kurt steadily pushed in, and he felt a dull, throbbing ache from muscles new to the experience, but it wasn’t true pain as Blaine knew it. Sooner than Blaine expected, Kurt was fully seated; his balls snug against Blaine’s ass. He paused there for a moment, then pulled out just a bit, pressing back in with miniscule thrusts, allowing Blaine’s body to fully adjust to the intrusion. 

The ache receded, and Kurt began using longer strokes, pulling out until just the tip remained and thrusting into him in an unbroken deft stroke. Blaine kept silent, still waiting to lose his mind to the sweeping pleasure that would overwhelm him. Kurt’s thrusts sped up, and Blaine heard whispered moans and pants from above as the Alpha took his pleasure, claiming his new pack member. 

Blaine was surprised to feel himself hardening. He squeaked when a slight angle adjustment made Kurt’s powerful thrusts slide against his prostate. The new angle felt amazing, and Blaine moaned at the unexpected sensation, gasping when Kurt reached between Blaine’s legs to fist his cock. 

“Come on, Blaine,” Kurt growled, bending low so his body covered Blaine’s. Blaine groaned at the sudden, erotic feel of teeth when Kurt nipped hard at the juncture of his neck where it met shoulder

“Come for me, beautiful,” Kurt urged, breathless as he took Blaine in fast, hard thrusts. “Empty yourself on pack ground and be mine. MINE!” 

Blaine whimpered and thrust into the fist steadily working his cock, matching the snap of Kurt’s hips. Overwhelmed by the dual sensations against his ass and cock, Blaine came hard, his semen splashing onto the frozen earth beneath him, steaming faintly in the cold night air. 

Blaine sagged, distantly aware that Kurt continued to pump inside of him. The Alpha wolf came just a few thrusts later, filling Blaine’s body. Utterly spent, Blaine slumped, his head resting on the pillow of his arms as Kurt gently pulled out. He whined, finding the sensation surprisingly unwelcome. A part of him mourned at the new emptiness.

Hands gripped him under his arms, and Blaine was pulled to his feet. Howls filled the air, and Blaine felt them all for the first time. It wasn’t anything specific or explainable, more a nebulous feeling of belonging. They were a part of him now, and he of them. And one and all, they welcomed him. 

Blaine’s Father had always kept the pack bonds carefully shielded from him. Blaine felt the others through his Father instead of through his own links. He'd been aware of what his Father was doing, but had never felt it any other way to understand what he was missing. The distant connection he’d grown up with was nothing like this. 

Blaine smiled fiercely, laughing as Sam’s familiar arms enveloped him in a hug, while pats on his back shoulders and words of joy surrounded him as the others came close and offered their own congratulations. He turned, seeing Kurt standing in the same spot, arms crossed over his glistening chest, a soft smile on his face. 

A part of Blaine wondered why he’d never lost himself to the claiming, but he couldn’t be worried about that now. Not when he finally felt so much. 

Too soon he became aware that it was cold and dark outside and that he was butt-naked in the woods. Blaine changed back to wolf, shaking off the faint residual soreness from his lost virginity, and trotted casually down the path towards home. 

Others streaked past him, either to go their respective directions home or to hunt, but Blaine felt no need to join them. He was tired and longed for the peace of his den. Kurt trotted companionably at his side, offering a safe, steady presence. Soon they came to the fork between their homes, left to go to the Pack house, and right toward his place at Sam’s.

Blaine didn’t hesitate to take the right turn as usual. He suddenly stumbled, stunned by an abrupt, overwhelming surge of grief. The crippling flash of emotion disappeared a moment later, fading so quickly that he wondered if he’d imagined it. 

Shaking off the bizarre sensation, he walked toward his house, Kurt’s comforting presence just a few steps behind. Blaine changed in the yard, waving good-bye to the white wolf before closing the front door. 

Blaine sighed in relief as he took the steps up to his room, wincing a little when the movement made his ass burn. The ceremony hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d spent his life dreading, but he was in desperate need of a shower. Parts of him were sticky in very uncomfortable ways.

He was happily ensconced under the powerful spray when he heard Sam knock on the bathroom door. “Blaine? You there?” He sounded oddly surprised. 

“Of course,” Blaine called back. “Something wrong?” 

“Um, no. Nothing. Need anything?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Blaine replied. 

“Okay, man. Get some sleep. There’s gonna be a hella good brunch party tomorrow in your honor.”

Blaine smiled. “I look forward to it,” he called out. 

He heard Sam’s steps retreating from his room and down the stairs. He couldn’t help but feel he was missing something important, but decided to let it go for now. It was probably just Sam responding to the new pack connection.

Showered and dressed in a pair soft brown cotton pajama bottoms that, like the majority of his wardrobe, had been a gift from Kurt, he settled into bed. It wasn’t that late, but he’d had an overwhelming day both physically and emotionally, and he longed for sleep. 

Blaine cocked his ear, hearing…no- he was sensing, something outside. He crawled out of bed and walked over to look out the bedroom window. Just below, a large white wolf had made a nest of leaves and was curled in a tight ball, fast asleep.


	3. I think I'm Gonna Like It Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father knows best; or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needs editing, I'll get on it tomorrow.

The following day was filled with further congratulations. Blaine decided to forego morning training and slept in, only leaving his bed when Sam came into his room and physically dragged him from the covers. Together they walked over to the Pack house for the promised gigantic brunch being held in his honor.

“Blaine! So glad you finally decided to join us,” Dave Kowalski announced teasingly, taking a seat next to Blaine on the couch.

“Yeah, well I needed to get my beauty sleep,” Blaine replied easily. He had zero regrets for sleeping in. 

“Understandable. Not that you need it,” Dave said with an appreciative smile. He turned one leg so his knee gently bumped Blaine’s.

Kurt was leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, ostensibly talking with Puck. Every line of his body suddenly tensed, and he turned his head in Blaine’s direction, his expression dangerously blank. Puck hastily set a hand on the Alpha’s forearm, urgently whispering something that settled Kurt back into place. 

Blaine had worried that the ceremony would make Kurt lose interest in him now that he wasn’t a future conquest, but this new behavior made no sense to him. Kurt hadn’t been ignoring him, even from across the room. Blaine had felt his Alpha’s gaze boring into him from the moment he’d sat down with his waffles. 

Another new thing; Dave hadn’t been this flirty since the first day they had met, but as it was still light and friendly he’d just attributed to the new pack mate status. Blaine hardly felt uncomfortable or trapped by the big wolf so saw no reason to worry. 

But he had never seen Kurt look like at a pack mate like he just had. Like he was seriously considering finding out exactly what Dave’s liver looked like.

Confused, Blaine leaned away, moving his knee from Dave’s. The big wolf didn’t take offense, taking the hint and turning his body so it wasn’t quite so close. Blaine flashed him a quick smile of apology for the rebuff, his gaze going back to his Alpha, who’d returned to his conversation with Puck as if he hadn’t been about to make Dave’s intestines meet daylight.

Then Sam appeared with a heavily laden plate, dragging one of the beanbag chairs over so he could sit with them. Dismissing Kurt’s odd behavior, Blaine settled in to enjoy breakfast with his friends. 

He didn’t see Kurt again after brunch, which wasn’t all that unusual. That night, though, Blaine found the white wolf in the same spot below his window, busily digging the leaves and dirt into a bed for the night.

\------------

Blaine woke to the noxious sound of his alarm clock blaring, and seriously considered skipping morning sparring again. Then he remembered the meeting scheduled later that day and rolled out of bed. He needed the confidence boost of a good fight before seeing his Father again.

Blaine grabbed a few granola bars, stuffing them into his pockets while eating a third as he trotted over to the Pack house. He walked around back, unsurprised to find the number of people training nearly doubled their usual numbers. 

A strange Alpha would be coming onto their land later; they’d all be on edge. Blaine felt a moment of regret that he was the cause of the discomfort but several cheerful invitations to join in dispelled the dark thoughts.

He glanced over when he noticed that several people were watching a specific match. Kurt and Santana, both in human form, appeared to be doing their absolute best to gut one another other under Sue’s watchful gaze. Blaine stepped up, admiring the speed and skill of his packmates. Santana was the embodiment of ‘tiny but mighty’, darting in for quick punches before ducking and backing away. 

On anyone else, the bob and weave tactics would have been incredibly effective. But Kurt wasn’t anyone else. For all that he was taller and wider than the petite Latina, he was incredibly quick on his feet. Santana feinted like she was going to the left for a high kick, then dodged right. Kurt anticipated the move; dropping so he could sweep her grounded leg out from under her.

With an undignified, ‘oof’ Santana fell to the ground. In a flash, Kurt was crouched over her, his forearm pressed against her neck.

“I yield,” she wheezed. “Now get the hell off me.” 

“You heard the loser, Gelfling. Get the hell off her,” Sue called out. “Match to you.”

Kurt backed away and stood, offering an arm to help Santana to her feet. She accepted it with decent grace, grinning at her Alpha. “Good to know you aren’t slipping,” she told him. 

“Never,” Kurt replied with dignity. He glanced over and Blaine, smiling warmly. Blaine smiled tentatively back, relieved that Kurt seemed to be acting normally. 

“Whose next?” Sue called. “Now that Santana has Porcelain here sufficiently warmed up, he needs to stretch his muscles.”

“Keep it up, Sue, and you’ll get that honor,” Kurt said mildly, brushing dirt off his shirt. 

Sue scowled. “I’ll yield so fast you’d think I was a yellow road sign, Shiny. I wasn’t raised stupid. Unlike some,” she muttered, her eyes flitting over to where Dave was doing one-armed pushups.

“Kowalski! You want to take a whack at fearless leader here now that Santana’s beat on him a bit?”

Dave bounced to his feet. “Sure. Kurt and I haven’t danced in a while,” his smile wilted a little when he looked over at the Alpha wolf.

“Why don’t you go wolf, Dave?” Kurt asked with studied casualness. “Might have a better chance holding your own.”

Dave was a big man, but he was a huge wolf. Grizzly big. Blaine didn’t know what Kurt thought he was doing, taking on Dave clawless, but he worried. 

Blaine needn’t have. Thirty seconds into the match he knew who’d win. Four minutes later it was over. Kurt dodged every strike the big wolf sent his way, returning the favor with fierce belly punches that made Dave howl. Then the wolf forgot himself and leapt at Kurt. 

Rookie mistake, Blaine thought, wincing. Sue had taught him that on day one. Leaping is well and good if you want power behind your claws, but once you’re in the air, there’s only one direction you can go. 

Kurt caught his forearms midleap, dropping to his back and planting his feet against Dave’s underbelly to help him over. Dave landed heavily on his back, arms held firm in Kurt’s grip and the wind thoroughly knocked out of him. 

Kurt sumersaulted backwards so he was straddling the wolf, still keeping his massive forearms pinned. Once he was solidly atop the wolf, Kurt released his grip, grabbing the wolf’s head with both hands.

“Done!” Sue yelled. “That’s a broken neck, Dave. You’re done. Let go, Kurt.” Kurt didn’t let go. His eyes were nearly glowing with Dominant radiance and he glared down into Dave’s terrified eyes.

Dave whined, struggling a little though Kurt’s grip never waivered.

“Kurt! He yields, Alpha. You can let him up.” Sue tried again. Behind her, Burt came over, eyeing his son warily though he didn’t intervene.

Dave whined again, then shimmered wetly as he changed to human. He lifted his head and exposed his throat. Finally, Kurt growled, leaned low to nip at the man’s neck, then rolled away, popping smoothly to his feet. Dave slowly sat up, making sure not to meet his Alpha’s eyes. 

Kurt looked over at a Blaine for a long moment. “I’m going for a run,” he muttered. “I’ll be back in an hour.” Kurt slid out of his clothes and changed, leaping the yard gate with room to spare. 

Burt watched his son lope away, his expression troubled. “Santana, Quinn, go with him,” he ordered. “I don’t like where his head is at right now.”

Burt wasn’t the only one, Blaine decided. Burt was a retired Alpha with no real power, but the girls didn’t question him. Instead they melted into wolf shape and nimbly darted after their Alpha.

Utterly confused by the whole thing, Blaine found Sam and the two partnered up, exchanging slow motion blows. “Is Kurt that upset about a foreign Alpha in our territory?” Blaine asked Sam as he steadily punched the padded mat.

“Huh? Oh, No. Not really, though I’m sure that’s not helping any. He’s just having a bit of trouble controlling himself right now. Dave should have known better than to push. Ready to switch to kicks?” And that was the end of the discussion. 

Blaine stayed for an hour, pleased that he’d managed to get through a long match with Puck without major bruising and barely winded. Burt had overseen that one, obvious pride on his face.

“You’ve made great progress for such a short time,” Burt told Blaine, making him preen. “A welcome addition to our pack.”

Blaine was still basking in the unexpected praise well after breakfast. He tried to take a nap, but he couldn’t avoid thinking about the upcoming meeting. The idea of seeing his Father again left him feeling turbulent and ill at ease. Unable to sleep, he wandered back to the Pack house to hang out by the big fireplace.

Long before Blaine was really ready, it was time to go.

Kurt had appeared an hour after his abrupt departure, as promised. He didn’t say anything to Blaine, but he looked sheepish and more than a little unhappy. He and Dave disappeared in the basement for a while, and when they emerged together a short time later, both seemed at ease and in good spirits. Blaine decided it was best not to say anything.

They piled into the big truck together rode to a little used park a half hour or so from the border. The roofed picnic area Kurt had chosen as the meeting ground was open and exposed on all sides so neither group could surprise the other. 

It wasn’t the type of place his Father would be expecting, but he didn’t bother mentioning to Kurt. His Alpha had been closed off since they’d gotten to the park and Blaine didn’t want to distract him. He also suspected that Kurt cared very little about his Father’s standards. 

At precisely 5pm two identical black SUV’s pulled in next to the beat up blue pickup.  
The driver of the first car, a beefy man Blaine recognized as Tom, climbed out and opened the back door for Blaine’s father. 

The man looked the exact same as the last time Blaine had seen him, which for some reason surprised him. Blaine didn’t know why he expected anything to be different. It hadn’t even been two full months since he’d run away from home, he realized. It felt more like two years. 

Four more men, all large, skilled Hunters that made Blaine cringe, joined them. Five men plus his father. It made sense, Kurt had brought five of his own people with him, but Blaine looked at them and saw friends that could get hurt, rather than the fierce Hunters he intellectually knew they were. He didn’t think he could forgive himself any of his friends got hurt because of him.

Kurt glanced over at Blaine, clearly picking up on his unease, and smiled reassuringly. “Relax, Blaine. It’ll be okay. I promise not to kill your Dad today.” Blaine chuckled weakly. 

From his place, nonchalantly leaning against a pole, Puck winked at him. Santana was speaking with Sam, something about Brittany’s request for another chunk of pelt. Apparently the cat now required matching boots. 

Without thinking about it, Blaine reached out and rested his hand on Kurt’s arm, gazing up into the confident blue eyes. Kurt’s return smile blinded him. Blaine looked over when his Father approached; and old dread filling him at the familiar look of disappointment in his eyes. That expression always meant bad things would follow. 

Kurt took a seat at the picnic table. Blaine stood just behind him, Sam at his side. The three others spread themselves out on their side of the pavilion. Blaine’s father sat as well, his Hunters arranged in a neat line at his back. 

“Patrick,” Kurt said evenly. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.” 

“It has, indeed. I think you may still have been in diapers,” Patrick replied with a warm smile. His tone was polite, but the dig on Kurt’s youth was clear.

Kurt grinned easily, far too controlled to rise to the bait. “It’s possible. But as you can see, I’m all grown up, now. What brings you to our territory?”

“Don’t play; we both know the answer to that. I’m here to reclaim my son.” Patrick’s eyes bored holes into Blaine. Blaine felt the gaze hit him like a laser…and glared right back. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised by his unexpected resistance, he or his Father.

“You should have just called. I could have saved you a lot of hassle. He’s joined our pack.”

“So I see,” Patrick replied, turning his attention back to Kurt. “I’m sure you know that my other son moved west. Which leaves Blaine the only child left to me, and I’d very much like to have him back home where he belongs.”

“Blaine is welcome to go where he likes, of course,” Kurt replied with a shrug. “He’s of age to make his own decisions.”

“Now he is, yes. Barely. We had an unfortunate falling out and he impulsively ran away when he was still technically a pup. There’s some grey area there, especially if he deceived you about his true age.”

“He didn’t,” Kurt replied. “We took him in after his seventeenth birthday. There is a copy of his birth certificate in with the pack papers.”

Blaine blinked; he hadn’t known that. But wolves could smell a lie, and Kurt had spoken the absolute truth. A flash of annoyance briefly crossed his father’s features before he schooled them back to pleasantly neutral. 

“Well, that was good of him. But the fact remains that he ran away while underage. He’s dangerously ignorant of the world. That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After his mother left me I became a little overprotective.”

Patrick glanced over to the worn pickup. “Your pack finances appear to be a little lacking. I’m willing to offer a substantial reward for my child’s safe return.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “There’s nothing for him to return to. He’s not a part of your pack anymore. The joining ceremony was completed.”

Patrick leaned forward, sniffing at the air. “So I smell. And unless my nose deceives me, it was completed so recently that the ink isn’t even dry on that deal, yet. While he is yours officially, I’m sure no one would begrudge you a little buyer’s remorse.”

Blaine choked. “Excuse me?”

Patrick ignored him. “It’s not all that uncommon an occurrence, especially with young men. By the way, where are all the adults? Surely, they can’t all have succumbed to old age already.” He made a show of scanning Kurt’s people. 

Puck, Sam, Dave, and Santana, all of them dancing around legal drinking age, stared levelly back. Quinn, the last of the Pack’s best fighters, had been placed in charge of those sent to guard the border to ensure that they didn’t get any unwelcome surprises. Quinn had pulled other members of the pack to help her guard the wide border, wolves that didn’t spent tons of time at the Pack house. 

The older adults stayed home to guard the Pack house. Kurt kept his father out of pack affairs, and Sue, well; apparently she was a ‘do as I say not as I do’ kind of person. While she was a fantastic teacher, several of Blaine’s pack mates had privately told him that she was rubbish when it came to actual fighting. 

Puck growled ominously, leaning forward from where he’d been leaning against a pillar. “You know how old-timers can get; hidebound, unable to handle change. We had to handle it for a few of them.” 

“Puck,” Kurt chided. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Patrick said, waving a dismissive hand at Puck. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. We were talking about my son, and how very much I’d appreciate taking him home.” 

Patrick reached into a breast pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper, offering it to Kurt. Puck reached forward and took the folded note, moving back to his place when Kurt waved him off.

Puck unfolded the sticky note, whistling at the number. “Wow, Blainers. Who knew? Maybe we should give you back.” 

“No,” Kurt said shortly.

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Just like that? You didn’t even look at my offer. It's quite substantial, I assure you.”

“I saw the number,” Kurt replied evenly.

Blaine rocked back on his heels. Even his Father looked stunned. There was no way Kurt could have read the paper from where he was sitting and his statement smelled of pure truth. The only possible explanation Blaine could figure out was that Kurt was capable of Sight.

The ability for an Alpha to see through the eyes of his pack mates was very, very rare. But as powerful as Kurt was, Blaine didn’t doubt it. Now that he really thought about it, Blaine realized that Kurt was more potent than Patrick by a significant margin. Both Alphas were shielding their true strength at the moment, but to someone who had felt them both, it was obvious.

“You’re a man of many surprises,” Patrick said finally, having reached the same conclusion as Blaine. “Which tells me that you could do much better than settling for such a small, weak wolf like my boy.” 

Blaine didn’t say anything; he’d heard the same rhetoric all his life. Apparently it mattered to his pack, though. Sam growled, and Puck leaned forward, stance widening. Santana laughed; but it sounded more like a hyenia's warning cackle then a note of jocularity. It heartened Blaine that they cared.

Patrick glanced around again. “I mentioned earlier that you have a lot of young adults in your pack. My initial point, was that they’ll be looking for mates, soon. Proper mates,” he added with a sidelong glance at Santana. “Too many young single males can cause trouble.” 

He smiled. “As it happens, my pack happened upon a surfeit of females this generation. Not only will I give you the aforementioned sum, I’ll throw in a pair of my girls, both lovely, newly come of age, and ready to be given to a mate. Trust me, it’s a great way to instill loyalty in your people. Not to mention the first taste when you bring them into the pack. I guarantee they’ll be pure as the driven snow.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Blaine said shocked at his Father's audacity. Even for him, that was taking it a step too far. Blaine couldn't imagine how the pack would take it if Patrick actually made good on that offer. “First you try to buy me, and now you’re…you’re offering up pack members like tradable commodities?”

“Tsk. You’ve let him develop some bad habits. I had him so well trained, too. Not to worry, I can whip him back in shape in no time. There’s no need to reduce my offer,” Patrick told Kurt without looking at Blaine.

The malice behind Patrick's casual comment made Blaine shiver. His body was all too aware of what happened when his Father took that tone. Blaine may only have the one scar, but there were plenty of ways to hurt someone that didn’t leave lasting marks. 

He leaned away, finding Sam a solid presence at his back. He fought back the memories, refusing to allow them swallow him.

Kurt stood abruptly. “This conversation is over. Blaine is ours, now. He is not going anywhere with you. You’ve had your meeting; pack law is satisfied on all accounts. I’m giving you two hours to return to your territory before I declare you invaders and hunt the lot of you to the ground. And remember, it only took two of us young’uns to drive that pathetic Hunter group of yours off our land.” 

Kurt smiled toothily. “Well, we drove most of them back, anyway."

“Why, you pathetic, queer little upstart. I tried being polite but I can see that…” Patrick began angrily, rising as well.

Kurt dropped his shields, letting his power wash over them all. To Blaine it felt like a rush of warm water, warming and comfortable. His packmates felt the same; he could see it in in the way they relaxed, could sense their satisfaction.

Patrick paled, stumbling backward into his wall of stunned Hunters. The smell of fear, ugly and cloying, filled the air. 

“Fine,” Blaine’s Father spat out, “Keep the little bastard for now. And when you grow bored of him sucking your cock, remember my offer.” 

Patrick turned, walking swiftly towards the SUV’s, his Hunters at his heels. 

Kurt stayed where he was, watching the vehicles disappear down the road. “We have eyes on them?” He asked without turning his head.

“Yup,” Puck replied. “Sebastian is running parallel right now; you know how damned fast that preppy bastard is. He’s gonna tail them up to that turn on Oak Hill where the highway is. Kitty’s waiting on her motorcycle to take over for him from there. Quinn still has the border under lock up. She’ll make sure we have continuous monitoring overnight.” 

“Not that it will matter,” Sam said, grinning. “Kurt, when you finally let loose they nearly peed their pants. I don’t think they’re coming back any time soon.” 

“Let’s hope not,” Kurt replied. “With the mood I’m in, if I catch wind of them at any time in the near future I’ll go for throats. And I promised Blaine that I wouldn’t kill his dad." Kurt spared another minute to watch the SUV's disappear around the bend, before shaking his head, banishing whatever thoughts were stuck in his head. "Okay, Gang. Let’s go home.” The group readily made their way towards the pick up.

“I never promised not to kill him,” Santana muttered as she walked by. 

Blaine smiled at her, his gaze distracted a moment later by something yellow on the ground. He scooped it up, realizing it was the sticky note his father had given them. He unfolded it curiously, eyes widening at the staggering figure. He didn't know what was more surprising; that for whatever reason, his Father thought he was worth such a large sum, or that Kurt had turned down fifty grand without a moment of hesitation.


	4. The Origins of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! There may be a tiny part where I came upon a snafu and had to fix it up with a little, umm creativity. Yes, let's call it that. Feel free to call me out on my bullshit ;-)

Now that Blaine didn’t need to worry about his Father, he got back to the business of stressing over the upcoming high school equivalency test. If he wanted to actually get a job and be a contributing adult, he had to pass that test. 

Kurt and Sam both helped him spend the rest of the week studying, reassuring him that he’d pass with flying colors. They were both right, of course, though Blaine hadn’t been at all sure when he came out of the testing site twitching and nauseous. 

Governments being what they were, it was a full month before he received confirmation of passing. Blaine found it in the mail late one evening and bolted up to his room to fit his official G.E.D. certificate into the shiny black frame his friends had bought for him weeks ago.

Sensing a familiar presence, Blaine glanced out the window, looking down at the familiar rounded spot, once leaves, but over time worn into a high walled dirt den where Kurt still slept every single night below his window. Sure enough, the white wolf was just arriving, settling in for another night out in the cold. 

“I wish he’d stop doing that,” Blaine muttered. “When is he going to realize that I’m safe?” 

Sam raised an eyebrow. He was currently curled up on one of the chairs in Blaine’s room, munching popcorn. “Umm. I’m pretty sure that has nothing to do with why he’s down there.”

Blaine set the frame down. “So why is he still sleeping under my window every freaking night?” 

“Because you’re up here? Honestly, I admire Kurt’s fortitude. I thought sure he’d have demanded to at least sleep on the couch by now.” 

“What are you talking about?” Blaine asked, exasperated. “He owns a giant house just down the road filled with a number of nice, comfy beds if his is suddenly no good for him.

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s the mating bond, doofus. The only bed that’s going to be comfortable for him is the one that you’re lying in with him. I know it’s not as extreme on your side because you didn’t make the overture, but trust me, on his end it’s got to be pretty all-consuming by now. I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. How long are you going to string him along? I get playing hard to get, but this is just mean. If you don’t want him, let him go. You know?” 

“What mating bond are you talking about, Sam? We never mated! I think I’d remember that.”

Sam smirked, “Well, I’d hope you would.” He frowned, “Wait, you really don’t know, do you?”

“I know very little about mating bonds,” Blaine replied through gritted teeth. “Just what my Father told me, and he really only focused on one part of it. Please tell me what I’m missing.”

“Easy, tiger.” Sam put both hands out defensively. “It’s hardly a secret. When Kurt brought you into the pack he also initiated the mating ties. You could smell it from a mile away.”

Blaine sat down heavily on the bed. “God, Sam. I had no idea. Do you think my Father knew?”

“Duh.”

Duh, indeed. It explained all the veiled comments on how Kurt could do better. His Father thought they were mates. 

Blaine sighed and walked over to his window, watching as wolf-Kurt continued to paw and dig at his outdoor bed. He scowled down at the big wolf. This was going to stop right now.

“I’m going out for a walk,” Blaine told Sam. “Don’t wait up.”

Sam glanced out the window. “Don’t go anywhere unescorted.” 

“You really think that he’d let me?”

Sam chuckled. “There is that. Take care, Blaine.”  
\--------------------------------  


Blaine walked down the steps, stopping to pull on a pair of sneakers and the handsome herringbone peacoat Kurt had bought for him. He stepped outside, smiling when Kurt walked up to him, making a soft noise of inquisition.

“I think I want to go for a swim,” Blaine told him. “Come with?” 

Kurt whuffed in assent and paced along at his side. The trail wasn’t nearly as easy to traverse in human form, but Blaine managed well enough. It took them a while to get to the hidden hot spring that way but Blaine didn’t feel like changing at the moment. The trek was totally worth it, Blaine decided, stripping and nearly whimpering in pleasure when he quickly submerged his body into the steaming water.

Kurt laid down at the edge, watching him with a curious expression on his wolf features. He was lying right across Blaine’s clothes, something that, under normal circumstances, Blaine would have words with him over.

“Quit leaving white fur on my good coat and join me.” Guess he was having words about it after all.

Kurt raised his head warily, then he began to shimmer as his body slicked, glittering in the soft moonlight as he shifted to human. He slid into the spring, shivering off the winter night’s chill.

“Interesting night for a swim,” Kurt commented. “Were you feeling restless?” 

“Not particularly. Actually, I was a little preoccupied and needed to clear my head,” Blaine told him, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “You see, I just found out that I have a mate.” 

Kurt froze. “Oh. Umm.”

“You knew that I had no idea, right?” Blaine asked

Kurt squirmed uncomfortably. “Not at first. I thought the same as most of us, that you were still making up your mind.”

“Which is why Dave was putting on the moves all of a sudden; he knew I was still up for grabs and wanted to make a play while he had the chance,” Blaine said slowly as he worked the whole thing through in his mind. Now he understood exactly why Kurt had nearly made David into a wolf-kebob during their sparring match.

Kurt growled. “Can we not talk about Dave?”

“Sure, okay. Let’s talk about when you made me your mate, WITHOUT EVEN ASKING ME, and then you proceeded to spend the next two months pining in front of my window, also without discussing it with me.”

“Maybe we should discuss Dave, after all,” Kurt replied darkly.

“Kurt.” 

Kurt sighed, settling back against the edge of the spring. “What do you want to know?”

“Was it an accident, an impulse? Was my virgin ass simply too much for you to handle so you just had to metaphysically go ‘MINE’?”

Blaine paused, remembering the joining ceremony. That’s exactly what Kurt had done. Now that he thought back on it, he remembered that very word, and the way Kurt had said it reverberated through every cell in his body. 

“It wasn’t an accident,” Kurt answered quietly. “Impulsive, maybe. But I knew what I was doing and I definitely wanted to do it.”

“Why?”

Kurt laughed, sounding a little hysterical. “Because when you find yourself balls deep in the love of your life, you don’t always make rational decisions, okay? 

“Don’t be crass,” Blaine began..,.”Wait, what?”

“What, what?”

“You called me the love of your life.”

“Pretty sure I just said ‘mine,’ Kurt demurred. 

Blaine splashed water at him. “Not then, you jerk. Just now.”

“Oh. Right.”

Blaine swam close. “Did you mean it?”

“At the time, yes,” Kurt answered tentatively. 

Kurt looked like he was seconds away from bolting. It was almost laughable, Blaine thought, the most badass werewolf in the Midwest a hairsbreath away from running from him. Except it really wasn’t.

“How about now?”

“What ‘now?”

“Kurt,” Blaine remonstrated gently. “It’s been months. Do you still love me the way you did then?”

Kurt gaze on him was relentless. “No.”

“Oh,” Blaine whispered, his heart sinking. “That’s unfortunate.” 

“How do you figure?” Kurt asked, his blue eyes glowing faintly with his inherent power.

“Because I seem to have fallen madly in love with you,” Blaine replied honestly. “But that’s ermm…” He was being kissed. 

Blaine had never been kissed. His father would’ve killed any man who dared. But it didn’t matter. Blaine was quite sure that no kiss could ever live up to the way Kurt was ravishing his mouth.

Kurt gasped, pulling a few inches away. “I realized at that moment in the Briars that I loved you. Since then you’ve grown as a person. You’ve become confident, stood up to your father, hell, stood up to Sue Sylvester. Watching you run in the moonlight with so much joy, Blaine the man you’ve become…you take my breath away.” 

“Apparently not, since you’re still talking,” Blaine growled, putting his hands firmly on Kurt’s face and proceeding to molest his face. 

Eventually, when air became an issue, Blaine finally broke the kiss. Kurt leaned back, staring at him wide-eyed and panting. 

“Now, I’ve taken your breath away,” Blaine told him smugly.

Kurt laughed. Blaine smiled at the bright sound. He’d never heard Kurt sound so happy and carefree. And he’d been the one to make Kurt feel that way. Blaine wanted to spend the rest of his life making Kurt laugh like that.

“Tell me you love me?” Blaine asked, a new shyness supplanting his previous bold behavior. 

Kurt stopped laughing. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s waist. “Blaine Anderson, I love you. So much. And if I have to watch Dave Kowalski flirt with you one more time I’m going to lose it and rip his spine out through his abdomen.” 

“You’re such a romantic.”

“You should read my poetry,” Kurt smirked, leaning in to steal another kiss. “You’re turn. Say it again?.”

“I love you,” Blaine murmured, his lips millimeters from Kurt’s. “I will always love you. And I'm heartily sick of watching you sleep in a hole beneath my window. How do we go about completing this mating thing?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Blaine blinked at Kurt’s tone, chuckling. “You mean sex? How unoriginal.” 

“Yes, Blaine. We have to have sex. Right this second. Only way to finish things.”

Warned by the cheesy tone and too-innocent smile, Blaine sat back. Closing his eyes, he felt for the pack connection that was always a part of him. It was still there, of course, but that wasn’t all. Kurt was there too, inside him, a part of him.

Blaine opened his eyes, smiling. “I can feel you.”

“I certainly hope so, I have both hands glued to your ass.”

Blaine gave an experimental wiggle. Yup, sure enough, Kurt had a firm double handful of Blaine's best asset. 

“Not like that, moron. I mean that I feel our mating bond. Was it really that easy? All I had to do was accept you?”

“It didn’t feel all that easy to me,” Kurt grumped. But he was still smiling, and Blaine could feel the joy emanating from his body. 

“Did you say something about easy?” Blaine murmured, giving another little ass wiggle.

“I thought sexy non-sequitors was my thing. Don’t steal my gig.” 

Blaine laughed. “I want to have sex now, please. That plain enough?” 

Kurt’s gaze turned feral. “Crystal.” Using his grip on Blaine’s ass, he swung them around so Blaine’s back was against the smooth rock of the spring wall.

“Mind if I be in you this time around?” Kurt asked, dropping hot kisses along Blaine’s neck.

“Huh?” Blaine was already fading, suddenly understanding what the big deal was with hot spots. Kurt was working away at one of his with a Hunter's intensity. “How else can we have sex?”

Kurt sensual chuckle was pure evil. “Oh, love. Answering that properly will take years. But the simplest answer is you in me.”

Blaine paused. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. I'm happy to make love with you any way you want to do it. Next time.” 

“Right.” Next time sounded good. Right now he just wanted Kurt to claim him. Which begged another question.

“Kurt?” 

“Yes, Love?” Kurt murmured, his lips moving up behind Blaine’s ear. Blaine moaned.

“God, keep doing that. Uhm, at the pack ceremony, I was never pulled. I was present the whole time.”

“I know.”

“Is there, I don’t know, something wrong with me? Is that why you couldn’t pull my mind?”

“What? No,” Kurt dissuaded. “There is nothing at all wrong with you. I did that deliberately, and it wasn’t easy. You were so afraid of the whole thing, so nervous about the ‘whoring out’ part your father always tormented you with. I thought maybe it would be better for you to stay present, even if it hurts more that way.”

“Wow,” Blaine whispered. “Wow, that…Kurt. I love you.” 

“I chose right, then?” Kurt asked hesitantly.

“So right. God, I was so relieved at how well it had all gone, that I was always aware, and at least a little in control. That meant the world to me.”

“I’m glad,” Kurt murmured. “I always want to do right by you.”

“Yeah?” Blaine smiled. “Then show me what I was missing. Blow my mind, Kurt Hummel.”

“Mmmm. Right now, your mind. I’ll blow something else later.” Blaine’s bark of laughter was cut off by Kurt’s tongue in his mouth. 

Kurt took his time, using his hands and lips and tongue to drive Blaine wild. Once he had his mate a suitably desperate mess, Kurt gently turned him around, pressing his chest against the rocks. 

“Umm, Kurt? Don’t we need some kind of lube or something?” Blaine panted.

Kurt chuckled. “We’re werewolves, honey. We’re made of lubricant.” So saying, Blaine felt him begin to initiate a change.

“What are you doing?”

“Relax, I’m not changing shape. But that shiny stuff that coats us right before we shift? Super slick, nice and warm, and just sits there on our skin until we actually change.”

Before Blaine could ask anything else, a very warm, slippery, human finger slid into his hole. “Oh, God.”

“There ya go. Relax for me. I’ve got you.”

Blaine did relax, senses slipping away one by one until he was lost in the feel of hot fingers slowly opening him, readying his body to be taken. He became fully aware of the fingers again when they disappeared, and he growled in protest. 

The familiar feel of Kurt’s cock as it nudged his entrance silenced his complaints, the Alpha slowly pushing through the ring of tight muscle. Kurt's cock was as hot and slick as the fingers had been, and Blaine gasped, fingers scrambling along the edge of the spring, looking for something to clutch. 

Kurt slowly bottomed out, pausing to make sure Blaine was okay before he began thrust in earnest. The last ties to the world dropped away and all Blaine wanted was more of that cock drilling him. More heat, more speed, more girth. Something shifted inside him, and then Blaine was gone.

He came back to himself some time later, sated, boneless and completely exhausted.

“Welcome back, my love,” Kurt murmured. “I told you that I could get pull your mind.”

“So I see,” Blaine answered weakly. Kurt sounded smug, and Blaine knew he should probably do something about that, but he couldn’t make himself care at the moment. 

“Is it always like that?” He asked sometime later, when he was awake enough to be curious. “Now that we’re mated, is the pull a constant thing?”

“What fun would that be?” Kurt replied in amusement. “No love, it doesn’t have be that way all the time. I can give you bone melting orgasms that you are very much present for.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Blaine realized he’d been cuddled in Kurt’s lap, probably for a while, and that his skin must look like the second, less attractive cousin of a California Raisin.

“I think I need to get out of the water now,” Blaine told his mate. “You’re going to carry me home, right?”

Kurt snorted. “Nice try, Romeo. You’re going to have to make it back on your own four feet. You are the one who wanted to do this here, if you’ll recall.”

Blaine grumbled, but slid out of the water, shivering as he made a messy bundle of his clothes as quickly as he could, then shifted. Warmth enveloped him as his nature-provided fur coat flowed over chilled human skin. 

Kurt appeared next to him, already four footed and furry. Blaine grabbed the knot of clothing in his teeth and began trotting back towards home, Kurt pacing at his side, bumping into him periodically.

They moved at a decent pace, and soon found themselves at the turn. Right for Sam’s house; left for the Pack house, Kurt’s home. Blaine only hesitated a second, then took the path he should have taken months ago, the one he would have chosen even then if only he’d known it was his for the taking.

He felt Kurt’s joy explode as if it were his own when he turned sharply left, trotting purposefully toward his new life. A very Sam-like howl filled the air a moment later. 

Blaine listened to his pack mate’s song. Mating call, that asshole. Others answered the howl. Puck, then Santana and Brittany, their voices perfect counterpoints to each other, the distant howl of Sebastian as he spread the word to more distant pack mates all across their territory. 

Thanks to Sam, the whole pack would know in minutes that Blaine had finally given it up. Still, Blaine didn’t have it in him to be angry or embarrassed, not when Kurt’s clear, melodious howl resounded beside him as the Alpha wolf added his own voice to the cacophony of sound filling the dark night, the joyful song loud and from the heart. 

Dropping his bundle, Blaine tilted his head toward the bright moon and sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, chapters go up much faster when I've already written the thing. 
> 
> Chapter titles are all Showtune songs:
> 
> 1: The Music of the Night: Phantom of the Opera  
> 2: Be Our Guest: Beauty and the Beast (in case you've been living under a rock)  
> 3: I Think I'm Gonna Like it Here: Annie  
> -I intended to use Not My Father's Son (Kinky Boots) but that's just too serious for werewolves  
> 4: Origin of Love: Hedwig and the Angry Inch


End file.
